Learn to Love Again
by Ramonks33
Summary: AU: Roaring Twenties, New York. Luke Castellan, head of one of the most dangerous gangs in New York, is about done with his life. His gang about to uprise, the thought of a gun to his head is rather sweet, in comparison. But, one cold night, when Thalia Grace makes a scene at his bar and demands to take more then she already has, can they teach each other how to love again?
1. Chapter 1

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 1_

_A/N: Hello, everybody! So, if you remember my story "From the Frontlines and Back", I collabarated with the same person again, and we've started this fic, 1920's era, and infusing some Percy Jackson! If you enjoy the Roarin' Twenties, and Thalia and Luke, please enjoy!_

It was February 18th of 1921. Pretty damn cold around that time up in New York. A man by the name of Luke Castellan was sitting in a bar. A black market bar, of course. Alcohol was banned. His gang had run the bar at night. And he got all of his drinks for free. It was half past one in the morning. He sat, downing drink after drink. 5 o'clock shadow was prominent on his face. He looked exhausted. Tired. He sighed softly and reached inside his suit jacket pocket to pull out a pack of Chesterfield cigarettes. He pulled one out and lit it with a match, sticking it between his lips and taking in a long draw, slowly exhaling as the smoke plumed from his lips. He grabbed the shot of green whiskey he had ordered and downed it almost instantly. The amber liquid burning his throat and stomach. The feeling was almost welcoming. He came here nearly every night to drink away his sorrows. It would all come crashing back down on him later, though. He didn't care. He could forget for a while. Tomorrow was Sunday; which meant he didn't have to go to work. He could sleep in. But the hangover would still be there. It always was. He heard the door open and quickly glanced down at his violin case which concealed his 1919 Thompson, or Tommy Gun. He could grab it and jump behind the bar at a moments notice if there was any trouble. He felt someone take the seat next to him, and looked over, almost shocked to see a girl with short dark hair who looked about his age. She plucked the cigarette from his lips and placed it between hers. Blowing the smoke back out into his face.

"What's a young lady like you doing out so late at night?" he asked, his voice thick with his New Jersey accent, which was a little abnormal, considering the fact that this was New York. "You know thugs roam around this time of night." He suddenly did a double take, he knew this woman. Thalia Grace was her name, and she was the leader of a rival gang. He blinked and swallowed a little nervously. The only reason why she would show up at his bar was if there was trouble. "Miss Grace...I'll make this short. What the hell are you doing in my bar?" he asked.

Her crimson lips curve into a dangerous smile, her eyes shining with malice. Thalia Grace was one of the leaders of the most dangerous gangs in the area. Her scarred hands reached into her pocket, and broke eye contact to make sure she grabbed the crumpled document. Last week, their gang had raided the local beer vendor and the amount stolen was a different number then the ones that were presented. She had to shoot two of her own members to get them to 'fess up, that it was the Castellan gang that robbed them.

"Well, Castellan," she began, her words coming slow to staunch the flow, "Last week, we stole fifty cases of beer from the beer vendor on 59th. The amount that was presented was thirty. It's simple math, Castallan." She folds her hands together, and looked at him, glaring into his one eye that was still able to see, "Fifty minus twenty. And I have claims that your men were the one who took it from us. And you know how it works."

Luke glared at her, his cold eyes shooting daggers in her direction. Her signature grin was annoying, but it also was enough to charm most men she came across. Even him. He blinked and shook his head.

"Yeah. We stole twenty cases of the beer you had." he finally admitted, leaning forward a little and resting his head on his fist. He unconsciously rubbed the long scar that ran down the side of his face. A sore reminder of his time as a soldier in the Great War.

"Business is a little slow. I assume you would have done the same thing, and I also assume that you can get over it." he said, smirking at her.

"I don't think so," she says, her tone staying even and controlled. But her demeanor was so much darker, and she was waiting for her opportunity. She felt a slight whisper of happiness when she realized her smile was even working on him, the famed gang leader who had been a soldier in the Great War. She had been a mere teenager at the time. He couldn't have been more then five years older then her, maybe four. She leaned forward, and snatched the cigarette from his mouth. Throwing it into the bar, she leans closer, as if she were about to kiss him, but it was more a intimidation tactic.

"You see, those cases were going to someone high above. And, well..." she slowly leans back, glaring at him with her cold blue eyes, the bar lights highlighting the rarely seen freckles upon her face, "Someone is going to get hurt if he doesn't get them. And oh, how we'd hate to see that."

The Great War had taken a toll on him. He was still very young, even now. Just in his late twenties. He leaned back as she snatched the smoke from his lips and threw it to the bar. He felt her lean in closer and he bit his lip softly. This was too close for comfort.

"They were going to someone high above?" he asked. "Well good for them." he snorted, rolling his eyes. What made someone higher up so special? Oh, look, another little special snowflake who wants his alcohol. It was all the same to him. "Looks we'll just have to see who gets hurt first." he said, scowling.

She pushed the stool aside, as she came to a standing position.

"Oh, you're giving me the honors of starting? Alright." she says in a teasing tone. With calculated moves she's been planning for ages, she grabs her gun from her back pocket and aims outwards, pulling the trigger. An innocent gang member who has been intriguingly watching the conversation fell back, as blood began to pour out of a pin sized hole.

"Two days. Twenty cases." she says in a hushed whisper, the entire bar fazed by her actions.

He glared at her. He couldn't stand this woman. He couldn't stand her and her teasing and mocking tones. He shot up as she fired her pistol at one of his gang members, and turned back to raise his fist to hit her. But he couldn't do it.

"Now that you've gone and shot one of my members, guess who's not getting any beer?" he yelled at her, angry. "Looks like you'll have to find someone else!" he ranted, and soon came to realize that he had no other option but to give the twenty cases back to her. He watched her leave, and looked around the room. He sighed.

"Go take him to the hospital." he said, pointing to their unconscious friend on the floor. He sat back down in his chair, shaking his head.

A smile decorates her lips as she puts her gun away, and turns to him. Her eyes glow in the darkness as she leans forward, and tilts his head up with her hand. A dangerous move, but it made it so much worse. "Tomorrow. Five 'o clock. Good doing business." Leaning back, she pulled her hand back and lightly slapped him, the smack echoing in the silent bar. Without a word, she walked out of the bar, the winter air making her breath turn into white mist. Turning back for a moment, she winks at the leader, before turning and walking down the alley, snowflakes beginning to fall from the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

Learn to Love Again, chapter two

**A/N: 'Ey! Sorry about the delay! I've been having exams! (reviews every other damn day) and cramming. And literary jam as well. Sorry again!**

The snowflakes dusted her hair, as Thalia Grace prodded through the alleys of New York. Her face was twisted in concentration, as she lifted her skirt to walk through the snow. The confrontation with Castellan was already exhausted enough.

Thalia Grace was famous for deceiving men, and double crossing other gang leaders. Her devious smile was her signature, and her gun, already loaded. A smile crosses her face, as she remembers duping Jackson, Valdez and Di Angelo. They were all men of Castellan's gang, and she led them all on. It was for this, further reasoning that Mr. Castellan hated her guts.

It wasn't her fault she had to steal the beer from his gang, she had to. Circumstance required her to deceive other men, and perform deadly sins. Thievery, lusting, and every other sin under the sun. Not that she minded, of course. She was raised that way. Her Ma had been a singer in the shows, and her father had been a soldier, a general of sorts. God knows how he'd be ashamed to figure out his little girl had become a criminal. He broke her mother's heart twice, and her mother died of heartbreak when she had been fifteen. Imagine that, she became a mother to her brother at fifteen. Having to drop out of school, she had to deal with men to survive, and eventually joined the ranks of the gangs in New York. Her brother, though younger, made his own way. Joining the Great War, he returned several years later, heartbroken and depressed. His love had left him, and he needed a place to stay. Though he was a slight inconvenience, and at that point she was lieutenant to the former gang leader, she let him stay in her apartment with her. He didn't exactly approve of her occupation, but he never told her to stop. Now, he spent his days whiling away in her apartment, a cripple, but not a coward.

Entering the apartment building, she ran up the stairs, avoiding everybody's eyes as she did. It was a known fact around there that she was a crook, but they were always too afraid to confront her. Rolling her eye at a mother who flinched at the sight of her, she unlocked the door to her apartment, and headed inside.

"Jason?" she asks, her voice echoing in the apartment. Her apartment wasn't exactly neat, but it was in some sort of suitable order. She hung her coat on the hook on the back of the door, and set her gun down in the corner. She pulled her sweater closer around her, her rough black hair mussed up and dirty. She reminded herself to shower, as it's been ages since she's showered.

"Yeah, Thals?" he asks, his voice weak. He's been drinking again. She sighs, turning her head to see Jason sleeping on the couch, the blanket pulled up to his chin. A small smile appeared on her face, as she walks over to her little brother and kissed his forehead.

"Hey," she says softly, "How you feelin'?"

"Alright…" he murmured his voice rough and faint. She noticed his forehead was slightly red, and she picked up the bottle, nearly half full.

"Jason, you really got to limit yourself…" she said softly, wincing at the sight of the stains on his blue flannel pajamas.

"Not my fault, Thals…" he whispered, "It's…I just miss her. A lot." A tear slipped down his face, and she wipes it away, her hand brushing against his cheek. "It drowns the pain."

"Jason…"

"It hurts, Thalia…" he says, "Piper…I miss her…I miss her," she watches as a tear slides down his face, "So much."

"Jason, you really got to stop thinking about her," she whispers, before realizing his forehead had begun to heat up. A concerned expression replaces the one of worry, as she stood up and went to find her thermometer. Sticking it into his mouth, she waited for the red meter to hit the numbers, and when it finally stopped, she gasped softly.

"Jason…" she whispers, tears teasing at the corner of her eyes, "103 degrees…You're really sick."

"No shit," he grumbles, turning his head away "I feel like I'm going to die."

She sat there, shocked by the numbers. That would cost at least 100$ in medicine, maybe even medical care. She only had 90, maybe 95. She had to make deals, find ways to get the money…the meeting with Castellan rang in her mind, and she realized, with a dreadful realization, she was going to have to deal with Castellan to get the money she needed for her brother.

"Jason, I promised Ma this," she said, her hand brushing some hair away on his heated forehead, the pained expression on his face breaking her heart, "And I promise you. I'm goin' to take care of you, no matter what."


	3. Chapter 3

Learn to Love Again, chapter 3

_A/N: Hello, again! Sorry for the lack of chapters, as I'm trying to write this by myself at this point. Thanks to you reviewers, so please read and review!_

The next night, a cold, blistering night, Luke Castellan makes his way to the abandoned warehouse, shaking his head. It was freezing, and Travis Stoll was dying. He had been admitted to the hospital several days ago, after the famous incident with Thalia Grace. The fact he couldn't protect his member was killing him, but the idea of the boy dying because of Grace made him murderous. _She_ was the numerator in this situation; he was the unfortunate denominator. It was enough that there was already restlessness in his gang in the first place, but the story of a member dying because their cracked up leader couldn't stand up to a woman would cause a full-scale riot.

Luke cracked his knuckles, his trenchcoat offering little protection against the blistering winds. His face was being whipped by a barrage of snowflakes, stinging the sensitive skin. All he could think about was two things: Travis, and Grace. Travis was one of his associates, and had looked up to him ever since he gained the position of the leader. He was his best soldier, metaphorically speaking, and his twin was just the same. The Stolls were one of the best members of the gang, able to steal with ease without being caught. The night with the beer heist was one of the only times they've lightened up on their skill. He hadn't intended to punish them, as they were one of the youngests, but he assumed this is what they gained from a shady career.

_Grace._ That Thalia Grace. Her annoying signature smile. Her terrifying blue eyes that struck fear into the hearts of thousands. And her amazing career of life in crime. Known for her accuracy in the gun department, she was a perfect shot, technical and an improviser. That smile was known to enchant many men of her choosing, and an equal amount of women. Heading one of the deadliest gangs in New York City was no easy feat, and he knew that. He didn't like her, for sure. He could easily say he hated Thalia Grace, but at the same time, he had to respect her. That was just the way it was in this world, this terrible, rotten world. You didn't have to like each other, you could hate each other. Hell, it was encouraged. But you had to respect people like her, and he knew, he couldn't help but fall a little more harder every time he stared into those eyes

Kicking down the broken door of the warehouse, he took one last look around, before entering the warehouse. The darkness greeted his eyes, cloaking them with blindness. He felt his muscles contract at the prospect of him not being alone with her in here. He hadn't brought back up. Stupid idea, why'd he do that? He shook his head, as his shoes dug into the grounded dirt that served as a floor for the warehouse.

"Thought you'd be late."

The voice of the devil herself.

"I try my best to be on time, unlike you."

He hadn't brought the alcohol today, as he was planning on negotiating with her as soon as he made sure they were alone. But it clearly seems that the negotiation would wait another day, as that voice sent chills up his spine.

"Listen, Castellan, I don't have to be nice."

"When are you _ever _nice?"

"Well, how rude, especially to a lady!" Her snarkiness was one of the worse qualities about her. It could drive a man over the edge if he wasn't careful.

"I don't think you qualify as a woman, _Grace_."

The lights of the warehouse flickered to life, and he found himself standing, isolated, except for her. Standing right across from him, covered from her heel to her collar with a coat, unlike himself. Her eyes were glimmering with malice, as she smirks as his sudden surprise. The sound of the raging winds behind him was unforgivable.

"Forget it," she said quickly, dismissing his rudeness. She stares at her fingernails, inspecting the long, polished nails, "I need the alcohol, Castellan. Double the amount. Fast."

Luke's head began to spin. Double?! He could barely acquire what he already stole! He bit his lip hard, but tried not to let his anxiety show. The uneasiness would only fuel that smirk that was growing on her face.

"Why so much more, Grace?"

"None of your business." she snaps quickly. He couldn't help but notice the fact that she had lines and shadows under her eyes. Women her age didn't get those lines until they were worn and all. She couldn't have been more then twenty, his age at the very least. He had to suspect she was worried, and that only added to his growing confidence.

"I can't do double. Half."

"No way, Castellan. Double or nothing."

"Half."

Silence.

"Fine," she replies, shaking her head. He smiles, not realizing she would be such a pushover. He walked his way over to her, offering his scarred, larger hand. Without hesitation, she takes it, shaking it firmly.

"Pleasure doing business, Grace."

"Pleasure's all mine, Castellan. You'll pay for this."

"And how will you do that?" he asks, almost about to laugh. Barely anybody knew about his past, or about his psychotic mother in the asylum.

"I know about her. _Annabeth."_

His blood ran cold.

_Annabeth._

Nobody was supposed to know about Annabeth Chase, the woman who he had loved, and had broken his heart. He staggered back, releasing her hand from their overpowering handshake.

"And I know you had brothers and sisters, Luke." She began to circle him, watching him begin to break with her words. They were like knives to his chest. "And I know that you're dying inside." _Stab. _"And I know they all denied you because you were a coward."

"I wasn't a coward." His voice was trembling. His hands were curled in fists, shaking with pure aner.

"You left the unit." Her words were torture, but they were enchanting. Her voice was like chocolate, poisoning him with every other syllable, "You let them die. You let them go. You let Captain Jason Grace and his unit to die, because you were afraid."

No. She wasn't supposed to know this. How did she know? He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the tears that were threatning to fall down her face. Damn, why did her voice have to be so alluring? He wanted to block her out, shut her out, but it was so beautiful, the way her mouth shaped them into words of hatred...

His hand lunged for his Colt, hidden under the belt of his coat, ready to blow her brains out. Hell, if she was a man, he would've killed her by this point. But he couldn't kill a woman. Even if she was the devil with lipstick. His hand relaxed as soon as his fingers curled around the handle. He knew she was standing right in front of him, basking in his misery. Instead, he pulled his hand back, and slapped her sharply, letting all his force transfer to his hand.

Her reaction was immediate. Quicker then he could've pulled out his own, she pulls out a Colt, loaded and ready. He knew she was carrying a gun, he always knew she was going to carry one. If you didn't around this area, you were an idiot. He was expecting it. He let it rest against his temple, staring down at her. Her eyes were no longer glimmering, but filled with such hatred and anger.

"I'll shoot."

He knew she would. He knew she could. He wasn't going to run anymore. He took her wrist, holding her hand there, before slowly moving it down to his chest, and letting it rest over his heart.

"Do it," he whispers hoarsely, "Break it even more."

Her body seemed to stiffen when he whispers his words. He watches as her index finger tightens around the trigger, and he prepares to say goodbye to this bitter, terrible world in which he lived. Instead, he felt a sharp pain in his gut, and he falls upon the ground, the pain growing stronger. She must've moved her aim to his stomach, planning on letting him bleed out.

He opens his eyes briefly to see her holding the gun with little remorse in her eyes. The last thing he hears is his name, and he slowly fades, letting the darkness consume him

_There's the chapter for today! Please read, review and share! Lots of love from Ramonks33, and stay awesome!_


	4. Chapter 4

Learn to Love Again, chapter 4

_A/N: Hey! Inspiration came sooner then I thought, so here's a chapter for you guys! Lots of love to my reviewers, so don't forget to share, and be awesome. You are awesome, by the way. I love you. Don't forget that, kay. You're hella. _

Whirls of smoke block the man's vision, as he take another swig of scotch. His hand shakes as he raises the glass to his cracked lips, but he savours the harsh liquid. It burns the back of his throat, but he doesn't complain. Everything he can do to forget the pain.

"Hey, Perce! You done with that drink or do the rest of us have to wait till we get our own, too!"

Percy Jackson turns in his seat, his eyes having the likeness of a wolf, staring deeply into the challenger's. His hands fold themselves into fists, but he tries his best to uncurl them. One more death and he'd be locked up for sure.

For Percy Jackson, life couldn't have been crueler. Born deep in the life of crime, his father forced him into the business of drugs and alcohol. His father was the founder of the current gang he was enforced in, the Castellan gang. Second in command to Luke Castellan, who at the moment, was indisposed. Something about the Grace Group. He had insisted to his boss that he shouldn't go, but as Luke was, he ignored Percy and placed him in charge for the moment while he went to deal with Miss Thalia Grace, a woman who was the very definition of the word "bitch".  
>Women were the last thing Percy Jackson had wanted to deal with. His most recent affair, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, had ended disastrously. She had become his mistress a year ago, and since then, he was half the reason the "company" was losing money. He had tried his best to please her with the expensive jewels and dresses he paid others to steal, and in the end, it hadn't been enough. Their adultress relationship ended with her about to leave him for England. Unfortunately, they still haven't linked the dead body to one Percy Jackson, who had been kind and strangled her before she revealed their secret relations.<p>

"Just ignore him, Percy," the voice by his side spoke. He turns his head, his neck cracking from it's stationary position, to see a younger boy by his side. Only about four or three years younger. Nico Di Angelo was working on a beer, staring straight ahead. One might question why such a young boy (only 18) was dealing with this life willingly, but few knew the real story. At age 16, his sister was murdered by a prominent member of the Castellan gang. Raped, then murdered. Nico had promised to himself he'd avenge Bianca's death, and now, he was the reason why Chris Rodriguez no longer walks the plains of the planet.

"When you got idiots like that," Percy sighs, taking another quick taste of the Scotch in his glass, and he wipes the liquid on the back of his hand, "Who really bothers to listen to them."

"You listen to me."

"Yeah," Percy says, a smile growing on his five 'o clock shadow, " 'Cause you're not an idiot."

The bar that night was filled to the brim, men and women of questionable statuses milling around. Percy himself and Nico Di Angelo were perched at the bar, taking their rounds of drinks with the money they didn't rightfully earn. At the corner of the bar, Leo Valdez, an illegal immigrant, was speaking to another immigrant who was responsible for the blood of many fallen men, Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano. Charlie Beckendorf was making a deal of adultery with the Countess, Silena Beauregard, giggling and offering her as much money as Luke himself stole in a year.

The howling winds outside surrounded the bar, but the inhabitants inside were oblivious to the winds, until the entrance doors to the bar slammed open, silencing the bar. The person who stood with the backdrop of winds and cold was a woman for sure, by her stature. Grey eyes peered into the soul of every living being in the bar, and with a step forward, her persona was revealed in the bar's dimlight.  
>Long, bright blonde hair was gathered together tightly in a ponytail, partly damp because of the snow. Wearing men's trousers, the rest was concealed by a long black men's coat. Hands stuck in her pocket, she enters the bar, the residents staring at the estranged person.<p>

"I demand to speak to the current man in charge of the Castellan gang."

Percy, stunned by her sudden appearance, came back to life as he slowly wiped some Scotch off his chin and came to a standing position, staring into the challenger's eyes.

"That would be me, if you're wondering." He slowly walks over to the woman, having to look down to meet her eyes. He is taken aback by her dauntless attitude, but he shouldn't be, really. Crossing his arms, he bites his lip, waiting for what she had to say.

"What I have to say may be shocking, even a lie. But today, I tell no lies to you...fine people," she says, wrinkling her nose. "Your leader, Mr. Luke Castellan, will be indisposed for the moment. I have orders to tell you that he will be gone for awhile, so rely on your current leader."

"And you, darlin', have any idea of what happened to him?" Percy questions, his tone on the verge of a growl.

"No idea. I had my orders."

"Who d'you work for?"

"Wouldn't you love to know."

"I would, actually."

"Thalia. Grace."

Silence.

"What's she done to him?" Percy demands, grabbing the woman's arm roughly, "Tell me what that bitch did to our leader?"

"I don't know." She meets his eyes with a glare to match one of a wolf,or his own. He almost frees her, but his grip tightens as he leans even closer, baring his teeth.

"I bet you do."

"I don't."

"Why should I even believe your truth?"

"Have I ever a reason to lie to you, _Jackson?"_

"I've never even known who you are."

The woman stares at him, slightly taken aback. After a moment's hesitation, her free hand curls into a fist and propels itself into Percy's gut. Having taken blows like this before, the man manages to recover quickly, but finds his hand twisted behind his back, and the woman's arm around his neck.

"Think deeply, Jackson. You really do."

Releasing him, the strange woman saunters out of the bar, leaving the members in shock, and Percy himself out of breath. The first to rush over to him is Nico Di Angelo, who helps him to his feet.

"You alright, Percy?"

Wheezing slightly, he manages to quiet his uneven breaths, as he closes his eyes, knowing who it was. He meets the dark, empty eyes of the boy, who watches him with such anxiety.

"Yeah..." he whispers gruffly, "If someone informed me I'd be seeing that girl again, I would've cleaned up a bit."

"Who in Hell's name was that?" The question came from the corner of the room, laced with a thick spanish accent.

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase." Someone else answers. Percy thinks for a moment it's Charlie, but he realizes it's Otto, his least favorite member. "A woman Jackson regrets deeply."

"Shut up, Otto."

"Why should I, Jackson?" Otto stands, taking over the room. Percy raises his lowered head to see Otto holding a gun above his head, speaking with such power nobody can help but listen.

"You see what's going on? Our leaders are weak! Luke himself is indisposed, meaning he's probably fucking around with Grace, and Jackson over there falls weak at the sight of the woman who stole his heart!"

"Shut-"

"We need leaders! We need actual leaders for this war!" Otto yells, beginning to walk around the room. Placing his hand on the shoulder of Will Solan, who is watching, mystified. "If we want to escape the fuzz, we need real leaders! We need people who don't fratenize with the enemy!"

"Yeah!"

Collective shouts of agreement began to arise in the bar, and soon, every other man was yelling of rebellion and defiance. They were convinced by Otto's words. They were convinced they needed to rid themself of Jackson and Castellan. That they would be free men and rob and steal all they want.

'Organized crime is no easy feat,' Percy thinks to himself, as Nico helps him into the winter night, escaping the men who began to point their guns at the heart weakened man, 'But it's real crime when real idiots think they can lead when they've no real heartbreak.'


	5. Chapter 5

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 5_

_A/N: Hey! So, updating after a while, as I am unsure what to write. I'm sort of scared this will be disappointing, but I'll try my best, alright? Lots of love for everybody who reads this, and hope everybody has a good Spring Break! Read and review if you want this to continue. (Research was done for this chapter, so it may not be entirely accurate.)_

* * *

><p><em> The ground trembling beneath his feet. Spots of blood blurs his vision. Screaming. Too much screaming. His hands shake as he holds his gun close to his chest, praying to God that he would live through these horrid hours. This day was October 24th, and he was in the 93rd Division. They had attacked the Argonne Forest, North of Verdun, starting September 25th. Commited to the west of the Argonne, this was apparently the largest battle in this bloody way, with hundreds of soldiers fighting for the end of this War. They had broken through the main German frontlines a few days ago, and they were now fighting for their lives. They were fighting to make their way through the entire Argonne forest, and fighting alongside his commanding officer, he could never imagine he would be in this situation.<em>

_ "CASTELLAN!" Somebody yelled over his shoulder. He turns his head, to see one of his fellow friends, Harrison, holding a dead body, blood staining his uniform. "Watch for Grace! You know that fucking idiot will take a gunshot for any bastard. WATCH HIM!"_

_ "Fine!" he screams in return, raising his gun a bit, getting ready to jump into action. As soon as the order was given, he gave a loud cry, and ran, the sounds of gunshots and bodies hitting the blood stained earth were everywhere, and he was determined to keep his eye on Grace. He kept side glancing at the man, as he watched the younger soldier run even faster then he could've run in a million years. He keeps his eyes on the defense, but calls out his name, as a landmine goes off, a blast of red and yellow blinding him. He falls back, shielding his eyes, seeing Jason blown off his feet. He feels his feet fly off the Earth, and soon, everything goes black, as everything begins to turn black. _

"Wake up!"

He comes to, his nightmares about the War revisting him even now. His head was lain upon something soft and warm, his shoulders no longer trembling, but covered. He opens his eyes slowly, to be greeted by a warm yellow light. He hears the sound of water running, harsh against a metal surface. Slowly sitting up, he cries out, pain erupting in his abdomen area. He places his hand on his stomach, wincing as he realizes he wore different clothes, so odd being apart from his usual clothing. Soft white pajamas, and his legs were covered with a colorful quilt, and he realizes, a pillow is set behind his neck.

"Ugh..." Why did he know that voice? Why did that voice seem so familiar? He is shocked to see Thalia Grace, frowning down at his horrid state.

"Morning, Castellan," she sneers, and sets a wooden tray on his legs. A sandwich, and a glass of water. He never realized how hungry he really had been, but he still eyes the food suspiciously, watching her with distrustful eyes.

"Am I in Hell? Not surprised to see you here," he says slowly, and looks down, trying not to laugh in front of him.

"You shouldn't be. You're not dead."

"Well, that's definitely not the first time I nearly died."

She rolls her eyes, before taking a seat in front of the man. He groans as he finally gives in, sinking his teeth into the soft bread, and soon, it's reduced to a mass of crumbs on his plate, and the water has been consumed as well. He slowly looks up to her, as she sits there, watching him with understanding eyes. This was definitely a first time he saw her without that hatred that was always there. She no longer looked like the mobster everybody made her out to be. She wore a long sleeveless white dress, making her pale skin glow, like an angel's. A blue ribbon wrapped around her waist, and she wore a matching white hat. She could've been a well managed woman on the street you'd see every day. She places her leg over the other, and crosses her arms, staring at him with a quiet sort of respect.

"You passed out. I did shoot you, but I did bandage it in the end. I didn't want you to bleed out," she explains, but the sound of a soft groan catches both their attention. Simultaneously, they turn their heads, to see a sickly Jason Grace, beginning to wake up from his nap as well. Her brother had sweat upon his forehead, and grey shadows under his eyes. He was paler then before, and he was definitely sick, evident by his trembling hands and lack of color in his cheeks

"Th-Thalia?" The man asks, watching his sister attending to her mortal enemy. His shock was evident, but there was a look of recognition on that man's face, that he knew Luke. Luke tried to shake off that feeling of that memory, of knowing that man he couldn't save...

"Hey, Jason," her voice grew softer, and she gives Luke an apologetic look, before scooting over to her brother. She caressed his cheek, staring at him with what only could have been love. She ruffles his hair, "How're you feeling, Jason?"

"Better," he groans softly, blinking slowly, "D-did you get the money?"

"Almost. I'm going to. You hang in there, okay? Want some soup?"

"Sure...who's that?" Jason turns his head towards Luke, a confused look in his eyes. A bit of recognition, but aside from that, muddled memories.

"A client." It was clear she knew telling Jason would re-open the wounds he had received from the war, and when Piper had left him, "I was just making sure he didn't die before I send him off."

"Ma would be proud, Thalia."

"No, she wouldn't..."

Luke could only relive that memory of calling out Jason's name, before he was lulled to sleep by their sibling conversation, wondering if that memory of not being able to save Jason from that explosion. He always knew Jason was Thalia's brother, but had always tried to avoid her for that reason, though, that wasn't the only reason. That last reason would always be hidden, and never be told. His heart wouldn't be able to take it, if that last reason was ever spoken.

* * *

><p>Sorry it was so short! So done on inspiration...<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 6_

_ A/N: Hey, everybody! Sorry I haven't been updating. Sickness, homework and MY BOOKTUBE CHANNEL (cough Emimi33able for those who are wondering cough). I'm suffering from a fever that may or not just keep me home from school, so I may as well just write a new chapter! Shoutouts to potteresque for giving the long and detailed reviews! (I have an affinity for those types of reviews.) Thanks for reading and by the way, this fic will be shorter then Devil Takes the Hindmost by about, er, half. DO the math. (Oh lord, I feel like this is my death sentence.) _

It's been nearly 24 hours since Luke Castellan has been brought to Thalia's apartment to recover from their shoot out. With every passing hour, he regains his strength and mobility, and awkwardly letting Thalia Grace take care of him. She cooked somewhat decent soup; she leant him clothes from her brother, Jason.  
>The fact that his former comrade was the brother of his apparent worse enemy sent chills down his spine, but he doesn't dare try and bring back their nightmares of the war they had both gone through. Luke knew of the nightmares one will suffer after nights on the frontlines, and he hoped that he wouldn't re-open the wounds he and Jason had suffered together. Jason, becoming a cripple. And Luke, the scar on his face becoming his downfall. The two men had both become victims of the war, souls that had lingered on the border of hell, only to be rescued by cruel, unforgiving angels from the heavens above. Not that the pair regret living and wished they would've died, it's just that this fate was rather terrible, to be crippled and scarred and live the rest of their lives with the memories of a living, bloody hell.<p>

"Hey, Castellan. Castellan? You alright?"

"Wha?"

A pair of fingers flicked themselves together in front of his face, and he finds himself being pulled from his thoughts. He has been doing that for the past few hours, his thoughts clouding him from his reality and staring off into space, until Thalia herself pulled him from his reverie. He coughs harshly, the sudden awakening making him jump and stressing his body once again. Thalia herself was no doctor, but she made a rather rudimentary one. She had informed him that he would most likely recover in about a day or so. She was the one to stitch the wound shut and apply new bandages, all the while without looking for professional medical help. While she had done this, she had explained to Luke what had happened with Jason. Jason had fallen ill since the war, and no amount of money she had made had been enough to receive professional medical help that he needed. Even though his status as a former soldier in the US Army had almost convinced the doctors, they had refused, stating that her price she offered would not be enough to give him the proper medication. It's been nearly three years since the end of the war. 1921. February 22nd. The war had ended in November, 1918, but the horrors still lived in the minds of many.

"You're staring off into space, you bastard. If you keep doing that, I'll be thinking you died without closing your eyes."

"I don't think that's possible."

"I have seen a lot of things, Castellan," she snickers, lifting her left leg and placing the calf of her right leg on her left knee, wrinkling the fabric of her long skirt. Luke was still getting used to seeing her in women's clothes, as usually she would wear men's clothing during her business hours. Now, clad in a long white skirt and a matching long shirt, her ruffled black hair covered by a navy hat, she looked like a real woman, not the Thalia Grace he had despised. "And trust me, it can happen."

"How long have you been in the business?" he asks, rubbing his knuckles against the soft, sensitive skin of his left eye. Wiping some eye crust away from his bright blue eyes, he sees neon shapes form on the inside of his eye, and he continues to massage it for a bit, before pulling his hand away from his eye. "I mean, I've only been in it for roughly two years, three years."

"Five years."

"That's impressive. No women usually lasts long in this sort of life. I suppose you're the first?"

"One and only." A cat-like smirk graces her lips, as she watches him wince, realizing she was a lot more experienced then him.

"So, how old are you then? You can't be much younger then me," Luke leans forward, clasping his hands together in curiosity, "22?"

"20. Jason here is my baby brother."

"Shut up," Jason groans from the other couch, his body covered up to his nose by a thick cotton blanket. They had been trying to let him sleep, as Thalia had finally managed to find a Doctor who would examine him for a lesser amount of money. Maybe out of pity. For now, Thalia and Luke conversed while Jason slept. But now, the man sat up on the couch, staring at the two thugs with wide, curious eyes. Was it Luke, or even if Jason, him and Thalia all had blue eyes, they were different in a way? One of Luke's own blue eyes were a bit of a cerulean color, contrary to Thalia's bright, electric blue eyes. Jason's was more of a piercing ice blue, but as though someone had cracked the ice that had one been so firm inside of him. Something broken inside of him.

"23, myself," Luke comments, ignoring the siblings remark, "You were only 17 when you joined the business?"

"I was 15 when my mother died," Thalia says after a quiet while, "I had to take care of Jason. I had to take care of my brother, so I joined it when Dad stopped sending the cheques. About 17. I had to work my way up the ranks, and in the end, I became too good." She's silent for a bit, staring off into space herself, as though the memories replaying in her brain begins to take her system, "The leader tried to kill me. And I was the one to put the bullet through her brain."

Luke shifted uncomfortably, as he knew this part of the story too well. It had been nearly a year into the business when someone first told him the story about Thalia Grace. At first, he had just laughed, doubting a woman could do that much damage. But when he had encountered her that very first time, at the bar not so long ago. Not the recent mess that had landed him here, but long ago. On 56th Street. When had had been young and naive, and he had assumed she was just a young woman who had all the time in the world. Oh, how they had danced, and how he had been infatuated by this strange woman. He remembers the heat, the way his body had been pressed to hers, the way his lips had been on hers...but that was in the past. She had broken his heart, and he refused to let her have it again.

"Sounds rather similar to my own story," he replies after a long silence. He stares at his calloused fingers, picking at the skin around his thumb, "Mom went nuts, Dad left and I had to fend for myself. Cruel world, isn't it?"

"Rather cruel, I suppose," she says, not even meeting his eyes. She had gotten up from her chair, and was walking around the apartment, her eyes scanning the dirty carpets. She bent over to pick something up from the ground, saying nothing as she began to gather small, colorful objects from the otherwise brown, wooden floor. A wooden train. A stuffed bear, beginning to tear apart at the seams, "Not as cruel as you think it could be, of course."

"Papa?"

The sudden childish voice rocked Luke to the core, as he felt his spine stiffen at the name. _Papa?_

"Jane, sweetie," Thalia calls to the room nearby, shooting Luke an apologetic look, "Papa is in here, resting."

"Wait," the gears began to work in his brain, as though it all began to make sense. The toys. The random acts of kindness. Her mercy. Was it possible-? _No._ No, it couldn't be possible. The pair hadn't seen each other for years upon years. She couldn't still harvest those feelings for him, after breaking his heart, leaving him alone in the bedroom in that dusty motel they had so hurriedly dashed off to..."You don't mean that's-"

"No!" Thalia snaps, her cheeks turning a bright red, "For hell's sake, Castellan, you really think-? Ugh. Fuck no." She whips around to face him, placing the toys in a small box nearby, "Jane is Jason's daughter. My niece."

Relief washed over him like a wave, as he leaned back against the pillows, a sigh of relaxation escaping his throat. Thank God. Last time he had remembered, it would've been a disgrace to himself and her if they had had a child that one night of passion, of fury and happiness...

A pair of blonde pigtails caught his attention, and Luke witnesses a small child exiting one of the nearby rooms. She wore a simple blue nightgown, crudely cut to fit her shape. Luke suspected that Thalia had been the one to cut it, as it did not look as though someone had bought it from a clothing store. The young girl ran up to Thalia, raising her arms, yelling, "Up, Tha-wia! Up!"

"Say please, Jane," Thalia replies teasingly. The little girl pouts for a moment, before widening her eyes and asking, "Pwease?"

"Course!" Thalia laughs, and picks up the young girl, smiling and laughing. She spins her around, and Luke can't help but smile as well. Thalia's smile was contagious, he knew that for sure. For a moment, she was no longer the Thalia Grace that everybody knew of. The persona of a criminal and gang leader had disappeared, leaving a happy, beautiful aunt, spinning her niece around while the daughter's father watches, a content smile on his face. Luke ignores the heartstrings that begin to break in his heart, as he slightly reminisces of their times together. The dancing. The drinking. The love he had had for her. And the love that had been lost all together, because she left him.

"Thalia, careful," Jason warns, watching the niece and her aunt dance happily, laughing and giggling all the while, "Jane just woke up from her nap!"

"Oh, hush up," Thalia replies, and hugs Jane close, who in return plants a wet, sticky kiss on Thalia's cheeks, "She's my niece. I wouldn't let anybody in the world hurt her."

"Dr. Dumore will be here shortly, Thals." Jason slowly sits up, beginning to walk over to the pair. Jane laughs, as her father takes her in his arms, and she wraps her skinny arms around her father's neck too. Luke smiles, realizing how maybe this life Thalia had lived was not as sad as he had thought. Maybe she could be happy, even if he wasn't. But he knew that this time, he would not be the winner of this game. In his mind, she continues to exist, and he continues to exist in her mind, but they could not exist together.

"I know. That grump is such a pain in the-"

"Language, Thals," Jason narrows his eyes at his older sister, as Jane gains an inquisitive look on her small face, "Anyway, d'you mind watching Jane for a bit as Dr. Dumore comes to check me out? He apparently said he had to do it privately."

"Sure. But what about Luke?"

Luke quickly straightens up from his position, realizing what they were about to do. Send him away? Hide in him in one of the rooms, miserable and alone? No. He couldn't be hidden like that. No more will he be useless, and he will help her, even if she never realized why.

"I can help, Thalia," he says softly, "I don't mind."

"I'm not sure if that's a great idea..."

"Why not, Jason?" Thalia strides over to the man on the couch, and leans close, as Jane observes her aunt and the strange man, "I mean, he can't do any harm. And Jane is a ball of energy."

"Fine." Jason grumbles, shaking his head, "But if he lays a hand on her-"

"Yeah, leave that to me," Thalia replies, and beckons Jane to walk over to Luke. The young girl obeys, looking up at Luke with wide, turquoise eyes. He was entranced by them for a moment, before shaking his head. Letting a smile grow on his face, he offers his hand to the little girl.

"Hi, Jane..." he says softly, extending a hand to Thalia's niece, "I'm Luke."

"What happened to your eye?" she asks quickly, her voice as loud and demanding as Thalia's, but she was all business. Thalia winced, as Jason was prepared to lunge forward and take his daughter, saying it would be rather rude. Luke himself was quiet for a moment, before replying.

"I only need one, sweetheart."

Jane giggles, as she climbs onto Luke's lap and begins to play with his hands, singing the finger song she had learned from Thalia not long ago. Thalia smiles at the girl and the broken man, re-igniting a candle of love in her heart that had once been so quiet, and so dark. As Jason is visited by Dr. Dumore in the other room, Luke and Thalia look after the girl, their love beginning to re-kindle, but Thalia always refused to let herself fall every time she stared into those broken eyes, seeing only herself. She was the reason Luke was broken, and she knew she could never forgive herself. But maybe, they could fix each other. Not that very day, but maybe another day. Another day, perhaps. When the world will be fair and retribution shall come to the cowards.


	7. Chapter 7

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 7_

_A/N: Shoot. I'm in trouble, 'aint I? Leaving this for nearly a month...GAHHH. Sorry! Busy busy weeks! I love them reviewers, so if you want a shoutout, review! This week's shoutouts are to: potteresque, percabeth1414, Lahlahland! Thanks loads for the reviews, I promise this story will end well, unlike Devil Takes the Hindmost (*cough brace yourselves because I 'aint quite done with that hot mess yet...*)_

* * *

><p>Across the city, far from the picturesque scene that was unfolding in the Grace household, a young man and his companion hurriedly sprint across the street, the street lights their only guide to safety. Only had it been yesterday that Percy Jackson and Nico Di Angelo left the bar where Otto and Luke gang began to speak of mutiny against their primary leaders. Today, the boys had just survived a barrage of bullets chasing them across the city, and had only barely escaped thanks to an underground sewer.<p>

Emerging from the sewer when it had been safe, Percy and Nico climbed back up to the city, where they begin to look for aid, someone to support them in their loyalty to Luke.

"So, what're we looking for, exactly?" Nico inquires, his dark coat flapping around him. His face is slightly battered from their confrontation, but it wasn't anything too harmful. Some scratches and a bruise on his arm was all he had earned from the battle.

"I know people," Percy growls, trying to bite back the poison in his voice. Percy hadn't been as lucky as Nico, and a bullet in his leg and arm caused him great difficulty to walk. His face was rather battered, decorated with purple and yellow swelling bruise. Having stuck some fabric against his arm and leg, he was mentally calculating the time it would take for him to bleed out entirely. He had enough time to find some medic and threaten him to pull out the bullet, as he wasn't good with sutures himself. And he didn't ask Nico, as the boy wasn't as experienced. No, Percy would have to tough this one out until he could find a sterile needle and thread, "And unfortunately, not a lot of people around these parts loved Luke."

"Loved?" There is a bit of hesitation in Nico's voice, as though taking the word "love" as seriously as he could. Romantic love.

"Goddamn, Di Angelo," Percy sighs, turning around and facing the pale boy, "Can't you be mature enough for a goddamn second? Sheesh. No, I meant I know someone who can help us, and for fuck's sake, every time I say "love" you act as though you're a fucking five year old."

Nico cringes at Percy's foul language but stays silent as Percy continues to stagger on. Little could Percy know. His...condition was frowned upon in their society, but Bianca had been one to accept him for who he was. And it was Bianca's loss, that had led him to Percy Jackson. The co-leader of the Castellan gang, authorative and strong. He was second in command to Luke, and never took anybody's shit. Nico knew he couldn't feel this way towards Percy...but he knew Percy could never, ever feel the same way. Slumping along, he follows Percy down the street, until they reach an alley way, not so far from their own gang's hideout. Nico figures that they must've gone in loops and confusing trails to shake off Otto and the rest of the gang that he had turned. Fucking idiot, Otto.

"Hello?" Percy sticks his head into one of the shady shops that were on either side of the pair, "Lookin' for Chase. Two, six, five, oh, one. Yeah. We're in some deep shit." They wait a moment, before Percy triumphantly walks in, and beckons Nico to follow him.

A deep orange glow eminates from the room. Several wooden chairs and tables are lined against the walls. Some seats are occupied, some are not. Up against the northern wall, is a pile of wooden crates, some lids flung aside carelessly, and others not even opened. Bottles of whiskey are in piles all around the bar, as though someone was taking count. Women, more women then Nico has ever seen before, were mingling around the room. Some in men's coats, disguising their figures and their eyes. Others were dressed in the shortest dresses imaginable, wearing bright eye makeup and were dancing happily with other women. A mix of members of Chase's members and prostitutes, Nico noted.

"She 'aint gonna be happy to see you," one of the members calls from the corner, a large, broad shouldered woman. She approaches the pair, towering over both Percy and Nico. Rough, tangled brown hair fall around her shoulders, a pale trenchcoat hiding her figure. When she moved, Nico could see a loose men's shirt, and a pair of trousers. Dangerous, gleaming eyes stare at the two, "Chase finally began to count the shipments, and we just found out about your gang's...troubles. She was rally counting on those-"

"Clarisse!" Percy's head raises in attention, to see the famous leader walking over trio, "What did I tell you about letting other fucking flappers in here? If more arrive, I may as well hang a sign that says..." Annabeth trails off, seeing Percy and Nico. Her grey eyes slant in disapproval, before whirling around to the woman that was called Clarisse. She reaches up and clamps her fingers on Clarisse's shoulder, and even though she is noticeably smaller then Clarisse, she drags her away to the corner.

Percy and Nico awkwardly stand there, as it appears Annabeth is chewing Clarisse out for letting them in. Sheepish shrugs and fierce expressions cross the arguing girls, and Percy takes a beer from a nearby prostitute, winking at her as he did. Nico couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach, seeing Percy do that. Taking a swig of the beer, Percy leans against the walls of the hideout, a lazy smile crossing his face.

"Man, good memories here," he says to himself, taking another drink, "Hey, Di Angelo. You have a woman? Maybe we can find you one here!"

"Percy, I'm 18."

"And never too early to screw a woman." Percy laughs, before raising his bottle in a salute to Nico, "A marriage sort of man?"

"Maybe." The boy's cheek turns pink, as he thinks about the possibility of marriage between people who prefer the same sex...no. It was impossible. He's heard stories of gay men being beaten, killed and drowned because of who they loved. Tradition, he knows. But he can't help but feel like someone is stabbing him in the heart with Bianca's blade when he sees Percy, and can't help but wonder if one day, it would be possible..._(A/N: Yeah. It still aint possible in some places. What wonderful progress we've made.)_

"How 'bout that one?" The older man points subtly to a rather pretty flapper in pink and purple. Long black locks are curled beneath her shoulders, and she runs from woman to woman, smiling and grinning, sometimes dancing with them for a short time to the jazz music that was barely audible, coming from an old radio. "She's cute."

"Jackson, are you seizing my members?" Nico jumps as the sound of Annabeth Chase's voice scares them both. It is with great practice that Percy doesn't jump, as the two slowly turn around to look at her. Annabeth stares down both of them with narrowed, storming eyes. Nico was sure if they moved, she would strike them down with lightning bolts. Still wearing the men's clothes from their previous meeting, the only thing that's different is that her hair hangs around her shoulders, matted with dirt.

"No, just observin'," Percy replies with a gritty smile. He takes a seat, making his chair on the verge of falling over as the front two legs hang off the ground, "So, we need some help, Chase."

"I don't harbor hermits."

"Well, that's ironic.

That remark brings a smile to Annabeth's face, as she takes a seat as well. Cracking open a bottle from the nearby shipments, she offers one to Nico, who shakes his head.

"Oh. That's Nico. Nico, you know Annabeth."

Nico awkwardly reaches over, offering his pale hand to the woman. It was usually customary for gang members to shake hands, and nothing more, but before she could meet Nico's hand, Percy goes crashing down in his chair, the chair flying out from under him. Laying on the ground, he laughs crookedly, his bottle still in his hand.

"That...was awesome..."

"Are you okay, Percy?" Nico asks, trying desperately to keep the concern he felt for the man out of his voice, but one glance from Annabeth, he knew it wasn't as concealed as he thought it had been.

"Yeah, I've fucking worse then a chair," Percy replies, slowly getting to his feet, "You got a sterile bandange and shit here? I got myself clipped by Valdez and Arellano."

"Reyna Arellano?"

"No, Reyna fucking Avila fucking...Yes. RARA."

A warm laugh emerges from Annabeth's throat at Percy's comments, before pulling a small sterile needle and thread out of her pocket and tosses it to Percy. Catching it with fumbling movements, it takes a minute or two before his wounds are stitched up.

"I can get those removed, if you want," Annabeth offers after the blood has stopped bleeding, "I got some healers on my team."

"I don't need healers," Percy leans forward, his forearms against his thighs, "I need an army. Castellan's gang has gone psycho."

"Hasn't it always been fucking nuts?"

"No, not since Nico here joined," Percy ruffles Nico's hair, who quickly slaps Percy's hand, "You owe me, Chase."

"Since when?" she asks, an eyebrow flying up at his words.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

Terse silence.

"I have at least 5 women able to shoot and load a gun. Including me."

"We need a bigger taskforce then that if we want to stop the apparent mutiny that Otto has going."

"I can't help you there. I can give you names of my women, in case you want 'em. Just to make sure."

"List 'em."

Nico watches quietly as Annabeth calls their names, never having seen a woman other then Thalia Grace hold a gun with such accuracy. These women better be good, or he and Percy would be on the run from the gang for the next twenty years.

"Beauregard!" A skinny, charming woman rushes forward.

"La Rue!" Clarisse steps forward.

"Gardiner!" A ginger woman, with bright eyes and a distrusting eyes steps forward, watching Percy and Nico with a distrustful look.

"Myself, check...and..."

"Mclean."

An olive skinned woman steps forward, her dark brown hair braided down her back. Bright, turquoise eyes pay attention to Annabeth, as she explains to them the plan and asks if they agree. With a unifying nod, they all turn to Percy and Nico, as if awaiting orders.

"Christ, it's like they're Germans..." Percy murmurs, an excited smirk emerging on his face. He jumps forward, collecting some bottles of beers in his arms, and when he walks over to the women, he hands them each a bottle, saying something unintelligible and then shouting a war cry. They follow, and they all drink together, chugging down as much of the burning liquid as they could.

Nico watches as Percy takes Annabeth's hand and begins to dance with her to the loud music that now blasted out of the radio. Turning and twisting, they moved with grace and ease, and it was with all his man power Nico did not pull out his gun. He watches painfully, with a smile, as Percy and Annabeth dance the night away, surrounded by flappers and gang members. They twirl, twist and in some awkward cases, almost kiss, before pulling away with a pale expression on each other's faces. They would take a long pause, before the routine would start again, dancing, twisting, turning. Nico's heart was being beaten heavily, watching the two, but he knew he couldn't fret. He smiles, sometimes dancing along with the other flappers, and drinking heavily, hoping he could drink enough to forget this night.


	8. Chapter 8

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 8_

Another smile crosses his face, as Thalia turns her back to him, helping Jane gather some wooden blocks she had been playing with. That familiar warm feeling floods his cheeks, when Thalia ruffles Jane's hair and begins to dance with her again when the jazz music begins to play. And he forces himself, as he slowly walks over and joins them.

Jane, the small daughter of Jason Grace, was twirling and twisting, grabbing the bottom of her skirt like the flappers they've seen, scrunching it in her small fists and bringing it back and form, her eyes closed as the saxophones and trumpets play their loud sounds. Thalia herself only sways, watching Jane, in case Jane falls or bumps into something. Luke knew she was always watching Jane, because he knew Grace himself couldn't.

_'The poor bastard'_, Luke thinks to himself, the man still being at 's for several hours. He had been taking shifts with Thalia, each sleeping only a few hours to supervise the young girl. Thankfully, it was nearly ten 'o clock, and she was growing tired. Thalia had given the young girl some cookies, just for one last sugar blast for dessert before she had to go to bed. The little girl was a blend of Jason Grace, and someone Luke assumes was very beautiful. Jane had dark brown hair, definitely of her mother, but bright blue eyes, from her father. Dressed in plain white flannel pajamas, usually favored by boys than girls, she dances with ease, and when she extends her hands to Luke, he feels his heart melt. _'I'd give anything to have a daughter like her.'_

Taking her small hands in his, he begins to dance, kicking out his left foot and his right. His bare foot bounced upon the wooden floors, but if his feet were rather cold, he didn't notice, for he was too busy enjoying himself. He laughs, as Jane extends her small arms in ways he couldn't, so his arms were only moving in inches. A warm smile appears on his face, as he dances with this little girl he wished he could call his own. Losing himself in the music, he sways to the beat, letting Jane guide him around the living room, and the pair is pulled from their happiness when the music is suddenly cut.

"Aunt Thalia!" Jane complains, as Thalia walks over to the two. A somewhat bemused smile is on her face, as Luke bites back a pouting expression. She scoops Jane up, much to her distaste.

"Time for bed, young lady…" Thalia says with a warm tone. Holding Jane in her arms, she brushes back a lock of hair from the girl's sweaty face.

"But Auntie!"

"Yeah, Thalia!" Luke finds himself complaining as well, crossing his arms at the woman who held the child in front of him. He then realized, how ridiculous he sounded. Leaders of one of the most feared gangs in the state of Manhattan are not one to complain about bed times. Hell, he never even had a bed time.

"Nope," she scolds them both, smirking a bit at Luke immaturity, "Time for bed, Jane. You have to get some rest so you can play more tomorrow. And remember, I'm teaching you tomorrow, not Daddy."

Jane gives in, crossing her arms at her insistent Aunt. Thalia chuckles, kissing Jane's forehead, before carrying the little girl into one of the rooms across the hallway. Luke found himself following her, not wanting to see this little girl's eyes closed without him being there. He knew, in his heart, that Jason Grace and his daughter must be in danger most of the time, due to his sister's occupation. He didn't enjoy that fact, as he knew what it was like when people he loved were hurt because of him. He didn't find Thalia selfish, though, for staying with the two anyway. Jason Grace was close to dying, without a wife to support him.

"Night, Jane…" Thalia says, tucking the girl into the small pallet that was laid on the floor. Rather thick blankets cover Jane's body, as she smiles lazily at her aunt. The little girl reaches up before Thalia could pull away, and kisses Thalia's cheek.

"Night, Auntie…Night, Uncle Luke."

_Uncle?_

_Where had that come from?_

Luke smiles wistfully at the little girl, and then at Thalia, who cringes a bit at the young girl's choice of words. He departs from the two, leaving them to their usual night routine. Even as he walks away, he can hear soft singing coming from Jane's bedroom, and he is sure for a second, that his heart was either tricking him or pulling a really sadistic joke, because he found his eyes flooding with tears once more.

_That morning, that morning had been so bittersweet. He was lying in the bed, warm sunlight pouring through the shades, and pulling him from his peaceful slumber. His shirt was thrown aside on the ground, as was his pants and shoes. He grabs for empty air, wanting to hold her again, wanting to feel her in his arms, against his chest, to envelop her in his warmth and love her. But when he opens his eyes, he finds himself alone in the bed, the one they had lain in together._

_ "Thalia…?"_

_He slowly sits up, scratching his chest slowly as he looks around the room. Now that it was day, he could see the room they had bought together. A wooden chest of drawers next to the door, a mirror right next to the window, the bed pushed close to the window, but not so much. And her clothes, the bright dress and hat were gone. She was gone. _

_He fights the tears that begin to form at the rim of his eyes, as he slowly stretches from his position. A pounding noise in his head. Fuck…hangover. He shakes his disorientated head, as he gathers his clothes from the ground, dirty and wrinkled. Pulling them back on, he spots a piece of paper, folded in half, with his name written on it. Her handwriting_

_Scooping it up, he unfolded it slowly, hoping it was just a note saying she had gone to get something. To take care of business. That she would return.  
>Instead, he found something very different.<em>

_**Luke,**_

_**So, we fucked…huh? Man, thank god condoms come cheap for people like us. I mean, well…**_

_**You're sleeping now; it's about what, 4 in the morning? I've got business to take care of. And before you can get your hopes up, no, I'm not coming back. I had a good time with you, Castellan. You're one of the only men who could convince me to go to bed. I wasn't even that drunk. But you know this business. You know what could happen if people like us fall in love. We're already in danger everywhere we go, but if we…let something happen…we may as well be the walking dead. **_

_**No. This isn't love. No. I will not consider another chance. **_

_**This isn't what I really want, but I can't let myself fall silly like the flappers. They end up dead everywhere, every day. Here, in our lives, in a dog eat dog world, we scrounge for the leftovers the rich and filthy leave behind. And to taste something so sweet, so close to happiness would be poison to both of us. I don't want this. I really did mean all that stuff I said.**_

_**Alas, life, is a bitch**_

_**-Thalia**_

The memory rings so freshly in his brain, as he slowly takes a seat back on the couch. Swallowing slowly, he tries to fight back the memory, wanting it to disappear. That there was a possibility for them. How desperate was he, to want this to work? To want to love again and let poison back into his system?

He had loved once. And it nearly destroyed him.

He is interrupted from his thoughts, when a brown beer bottle finds itself in his lap. He looks up, to see Thalia herself holding one crookedly, a sad sort of smile on her face.

"Shouldn't we…" Luke begins, as he avoids her bright gaze, "Not be drinking…?" He knew what sort of violent shit the pair could get into when they were both completely out of it.

"Jane is asleep," she assures him, walking around the couch and taking a seat across from him, where her brother had been resting, "And I only drink moderately when the kid is around."

Together, they both uncork their bottles, and each take a burning swig of the alcohol, the disgusting taste their tongues were already acquired to. Luke found his eyes beginning to brim with tears to an alarming rate, as he continues to drink even more. He couldn't let them show at all. He would never show his tears. He would never let them see how much he was really hurting, especially her.

She could never know how much she hurt him.

"So…she's homeschooled?" he finds himself asking as an excuse to stop drinking. He sets the bottle down on the table in front of them, not wanting to find himself drunk as well.

"…yes." Thalia sets her bottle down as well, as she lays across the couch, resting her head against the arm of the couch, her arm draped lazily over the edge, "We can't afford to send her to the fancy schools those rich shits send their kids to."

"So you know educational stuff after all. Figures."

"Yeah, shut up," she groans, her arm over her eyes, "I and Jason take turns teaching. These days, I'm her teacher. I'm terrible at English and languages, but basic mathematics, I can do. And science."

"You know…" Luke begins, crossing his legs together and resting against the back of the overstuffed couch he sat on, "I could always help."

"That isn't necessary."

"Could be. She's…a rather adorable child."

"Ugh, please don't take the Uncle stuff seriously. She calls everybody Uncle," she begins counting on her hand, ticking off people Jane have called Uncle, "You…Zhang…Clarisse…You…"

"I was there twice."

"My point is," Thalia sits up, leaning forward, her head hung down, "I don't need your help, Luke."

"Really."

"Really."

Silence takes their conversation, as they remember the way they had helped each other years ago, both of them cringing at the words they wanted to say but never could.

"Thalia…" Luke begins, his voice cracking, his tone broken and bent, "I will...always help you…"

"Luke, stop."

"If you ever need me-"

"Luke-"

"I'm-"

"Just _stop_!"

She was standing now, her face a complete mask of anger and sadness. Exasperation lingers in her expression, sadness swimming in her eyes the way a fish may swim in a fish tank, desperate to escape. Anger tugs at the edge of her mouth, as she slams the bottle she had reached for beforehand, the liquid spilling over the rim of the bottle and against the wooden table.

"Don't." She begins, her hands balled in fists, "Don't remind me of what you said, those years ago"

"I can't help it!"

"And why can't you?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU!"

She staggers back at his fierce words, hurt and surprise in her eyes, but she shakes her head, unwilling to let him unravel her.

"You already did! I left you for a fucking reason, Castellan! You _know_ why we can't be what we want, you _know_ why we can't be together and you _know_ why you can't let go!"

"I _can't_ let go because you were poison, Thalia! I'm obsessed." All the fight in his body seems to leave, as he slowly sits back down, holding his head in his hands, "I'm addicted to you, I can't stop wanting you, and I've been missing you for all these years and it's killing me. You're my poison, Thalia, and if I can't have you…I'll die."

"But you know," he voice is in a harsh whisper now, her voice bordering on breaking, "Why we can't be together. Because we're poison to each other. Broken glass against the moon. We only shine when we're together, and people…people want to break it even more."

The pair sits together in pure silence; both not wanting to confess anymore that had been said already. They could not love each other anymore. They could not hold each other like they wanted. Even they had to obey the rules that were set for the urchins and the dead.

"Thalia…?"

Jason Grace staggers through the door, having gone through extensive treatment by the Doctor. Being prescribed some medicine and morphine for his illness, he would finally be alright. He could finally take care of his daughter. He could finally take care of his sister, the way it should've been all these years. And he could find Piper.

"Hey, Jason…" she replies softly, her eyes still red with tears. Ignoring the dubious look Jason gives her, she walks him to his room as they discuss how the appointment went, and Luke watches as the woman he has always loved, the woman he will always love, his poison, was leaving him lingering, leaving him dying like a man on an island with no hope, or a girl with a razor on her wrist, and like these people, loses his hope and lets himself fall against the couch, hoping he could dream away the horrors that was his life.


	9. Chapter 9

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 9_

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! percabeth1414 and Lahlahland for your reviews! I appreciate them, and it would actually motivate me more if you guys reviewed! This chapter goes out to Lahlahland for their amazing continuity of reviewing! Please share this story! Love you all!_  
><em>Some vocabulary for you guys in this specific chapter:<em>

_**Soldier-In this case, the ones who carried out the crimes issued by the boss of the gang, such as thievery, murder and arson**_  
><em><strong>Caporegime-Orders the soldiers, in charge of them, and who the soldiers report to. The capo reports to the bossunderboss**_  
><em><strong>Underboss: Appointed by the Boss, they are the usual successor if the Boss has been indiposedimprisoned. In charge of the capos.**_

* * *

><p>"These ladies move a lot faster then Valdez, eh, Di Angelo?"<p>

Nico groans, as Percy winks at him again, the midnight moonlight only shining on parts of Percy's grey face. A grim sort of smile has appeared on his face, as he follows the formation of women that Annabeth had assembled. He hadn't heard much about the women on 69th, as their name had always been kept under hidden files and papers at the bottom of the ocean. "Best way to keep us underground," Annabeth had answered when he inquired why he's never heard of them, other then the name "Grace." Their official gang name, but it wasn't publically known like the Five Points Gang. Thank God the Grace had never gotten themselves on the Five Points radar, because if they did, it would be war.

Tonight, after the brief meeting with Annabeth, her caporegime, Clarisse and their soldiers, Katie Gardiner, Silena Beauregard, Piper Mclean, they had agreed that Nico and Percy were dead men unless they went into hiding. Since Percy, for the first time since Nico had known him, had no clue where to hide this time, it was up to the Grace to get them to a safe place. Annabeth hadn't disclosed where it was to Nico, but if Percy trusted her, which he did, Nico guessed he could go along with it.

Following the brown haired one, Piper, he held his gun close to his side, the Tommy Gun Percy handed him from the crooked crate, obviously without Annabeth's knowledge. "Keep that close, kid," he had warned, his green eyes becoming stormy, "If I say to run, you run, got it?"

"Got it."

He would, indeed, if these women had only lead them away from their bar so they could gun them down, but he wouldn't leave Percy if it came to that. He was undoubtfully loyal to the underboss of the Castellan gang, and if it came to it, he would choose Percy's life over his own. It wasn't the fact that soldiers were supposed to be loyal to the end to the underboss, but it was that Nico's condition caused him to feel crazy, insane sort of passion for Percy Jackson. Gang members weren't supposed to fall in love with other gang members. Especially a man to another man. That was unnatural. Strange. A monstrosity. But he couldn't control his heart, his passion for another. Love gave him pleasure, but when he saw the way Percy looked at Annabeth, as she commands her soldiers, it also gave him pain. But when both were gone, love would always stay inside of him. To live in this condition, this hell, to love him but know it was freakish, insane, he couldn't understand what to do now. That's why he loved the routine that the Castellan gang put him through. Wake up, drink, shoot, drink some more, and report for their missions, hand the loot over, and finally pass out in the bar with too much beer in his system. It occupied him from his feelings. It made a blur that blocked out his pain, but the blur could only last so long.

The Underbosses, Percy and Annabeth, had their heads bent together, looking over a sort of map. Usually, they wouldn't need such scholar like objects to help them, but in this case, they had to map out where they had last seen the soldiers, capo and underboss of the Castellan gang, because at this point, they had probably contacted other gangs they had alliances with, banding together to try and find these defectors. The Five Points, most likely, was their only ally that they had complete trust in. One of three underbosses in the Castellan gang was Percy. The other two were Otto, the asshole who had riled up the gang, and Valdez, famous for the arson crimes he had done, he was dubbed successor to Chris Rodriguez when Nico had murdered Chris. It wasn't exactly a big deal these days, as capos became underbosses when an underboss was gone. Nico had previously been a caporegime, but had moved up the ranks. In the Grace, Clarisse was the sole caporegime, as it seems Thalia didn't trust to have more then three.

"Last time I checked, the soldiers for Castellan usually placed themselves here," Percy murmurs quietly, as the ladies stand guard around him, Nico and Annabeth, "Here...here...and here."

"What about the corner of the Cotton Club?"

"Oh, yeah! And here." Percy points out the current locations where the soldiers should be now. "Here, is Solan. The other Stoll...Travis is still recovering from the bullet Grace put in him..." he points to the corner of the Cotton Club, "And here...Beckendorf. And Ethan Nakamura should be backing him there. He'll be easy to get rid of, fool only has one eye."

Annabeth laughs, as he comments about Ethan's eye. Nico shivers, remembering the cold Asian boy, with the black patch covering his eye. He seemed even worse then Otto, having been known for violating the prostitutes nearby and severing their heads. He had kept their hair for prizes. He made him feel sick as hell. Why was Annabeth laughing? Nico wanted to be the one to protect these women, as a women should be the one hiding behind the man, but it seems these woman were different. All carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, they were determined to get Nico and Percy to the safe house.

"Alright!" Annabeth suddenly yells, tucking the map into her back pocket, "Gardiner, Beauregard, head west, and then north east. You know who'll be in the way, so load the guns. Mclean, Clarisse! You'll be with me, protecting these idiots."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Jackson," she replies off handedly, and soon, Katie Gardiner and Silena Beauregard disappear down the alley, their guns loaded, and their faces displaying an expression of determination. Nico had thought for a moment that Silena's face had paled when Percy had said Beckendorf. Was it her that had been flirting with him back at the bar, when Otto had riled everybody up? No wonder her eyes gone wide, her lips about to open with protest, but instead, she had obeyed, like the soldier she was. Nico knew exactly how it must've felt.

"Move out," Annabeth orders, and, heading the group, she blunders down the lane opposite to them, and Nico found himself being ushered on, biting his lip. Percy raced alongside him, a grim smile on his face, as Clarisse and Piper sprinted behind them. As they raced past old posters, strange people huddled against the wall, Nico wonders if his life has always been coming to this, to live in a place where he couldn't love, and be forced to hide behind alleys and walls, to be concealed. Looking behind him, Piper, the woman with the amazing eyes and brown braided hair, was looking over her shoulder, seeing strange figures beginning to follow them, shadowed by the walls. She looks over at Clarisse and poked her with the butt of her gun.

"Ottaway," she murmurs softly, looking back once more, "Neshkush. Perinway."

"Yahushla?" Clarisse asks, catching the attention of Annabeth. "Annabeth! Five, maybe six of them."

"Fuck!" Annabeth curses, beginning to pull out her own gun, "Clarisse, Silena, as soon as we turn onto 142nd, you turn and shoot. I'm sure Gardiner and Beauregard have already taken care of Beckendorf and Naka...eyepatch. I don't give a fuck, we just need to get these two to the apartment."

"Anything we can do?" Percy offers, holding up his gun to the sky, and Percy follows his lead, "We're not bad shots."

"Keep it down, Jackson!" she snaps, her eyes lighting up with anger, and Nico slowly lowers his gun, intimidated by her once more. "We're almost the edge. Keep your guns up, and get behind us when we reach the bright lights."

"Got it."

"Got it, Jackson?"

"...Got it."

The five members all sprinted as fast as they could, as they were almost at the edge of the alley, and Nico clicked his bullets into the barrel, ready to begin to shoot. He wouldn't let them fight a battle he could help with, if he could help with. As soon as his eyes were blinded with the lights of the Cotton Club, he turns and steps behind Annabeth, and begins to shoot blindly in the direction of their attackers. From what he could see, the night was cold and lonely, all party goers are inside the club, most likely unaware of the battle going on outside. To the side, he feels his blood running cold, as there lay Katie Gardiner, her gun by her side, blood on the side of her mouth. Blood ran from her stomach, spilling onto the pavement. He estimates it's been at least five minutes since she was shot. Nearby, Silene Beauregard was subjected to the same fate, but she wasn't dead. She was writhing, and moaning in pain. It seems Silena had become luckier then Katie.

Shooting blindly into the dark, he hears cries in the night, as men go down that he used to be associated with. Nakamura was down, a bullet being shot into his remaining eye. He couldn't help but smile, when Annabeth shoots again, sending him down and down for good. Solan, Stoll and Beckendorf continue to shoot, managing to shield themselves behind a park bench nearby. Annabeth, Piper and Clarisse continue to shoot, Piper shooting especially fiercely. Her bullets caught them in odd places, a leg or an ear, but never in terminal points. Percy pushes Nico down, as a bullet whizzes past his head, into another citizen behind him. He supposed it was another party goer, as he could hear the sound of Ella Fitzgerald coming from the Club behind them. Percy stands beside the women, pushing Annabeth, Clarisse and Piper aside when bullets were close to ending their lives. Screams arise in the dark, and for a nearly infinite moment, Beckendorf stands, his gun pointed blindly at the women, and pulls the trigger. The bullet flies from its barrel, and almost makes it to Piper's head. Another body pulls itself in front of Piper, and falls once more. Beckendorf cries out. And another bullet buries itself in his skull, and he falls. Silena Beauregard lays in front of Piper, dead. A bullet fired by her lover, and a bullet had ended him.

"Damnit," Annabeth curses, and Nico thinks for a moment there are tears in her eyes, "She was a good soldier. Fucking shit..."

Solan and Stoll make their getaway, but at the moment, the Grace members pay no attention the men making their escape, crippled by Clarisse's bullets. Clarisse slowly picks up the body of Silena Beauregard, and Piper is the one to carry Katie's. The moments pass in a blur for awhile, as they walk into another alley and lay the bodies against the brick wall, shivering, trying to repress their sadness. Nico watches, as the women are lain against the wall, side by side like they should be. Eyes closed, jackets wrapped more firmly around their bodies. Clarisse walks on, muttering curses as she walks on, going on, just like the capo should. It was obvious Annabeth was trying to stay strong, but when her shoulders began to shake, it was Percy who wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Nico thought she would pull the trigger of her gun on him, but instead, she had just let him. Two of her good soldiers were dead.

As for Piper, she was the one to walk alongside Nico, their sadness and anger hidden beneath their silence. He nearly felt nothing, but close to everything as well. How could humans survive with so many emotions, beginning to destroy him from the inside out. They were dead. Percy was holding Annabeth. His sister was dead. Their broken forms had reminded him of when he found Bianca's broken body, when he was so young. He was right, from before. They were only made to break and burn, as this was what he deserved when he joined the ranks of the underworld. People like him would never be worried over, because in the end, it was his peers who would destroy themselves, just like he would destroy himself.

They walked in silence, each mourning the death of their beloved friends and members, the walk taking most of the night. Time stretched along the miles of Manhattan, the weight of their deaths on their shoulders. Silence reigns on their trek, no gunman or member appearing without a warning. Other then the occasional sob from Annabeth. Clarisse watches Annabeth with wide eyes, Piper and her exchanging looks at they see, for the first time, their underboss shows emotion, releasing it from her cold shell she had been forced to wear when she became part of the business.

It was February 24th, now past midnight, when they finally reached the apparent apartment building where they would hide Nico and Percy. Sneaking in through the back doors, they had slowly walked up the steps, the greying light of the single lightbulb in the stairwell boring down on them. When they reach the ninth floor, they are met with a blonde man, holding a cane, around Percy's age, Nico would've guessed. The man's face flooded with relief, as he saw Annabeth, but his face is drained of blood when he gains sight of Piper.

"Piper?"

"Jason?"


	10. Chapter 10

_Learn To Love Again, chapter 10_

_A/N: Hey, everybody! Thanks for the lovely reviews for the last chapter, it really was a whirlwind, huh? Lots of love to Lahlahland, potteresque and percabeth1414 for the reviews! I am sorry for any emotional damage I have caused. Warning, there is about five chapters left in this story, just a warning. Sidenote, __**this chapter takes place a couple of hours before chapter 9**__, and I thought it fitting to write chapter 9 with the chase, then 10 with the apartment, as a sort of flashback. Just to make it clear_

* * *

><p>Jane has been asleep for about two hours, when Thalia finally shook Luke awake from his nap. The apartment was bathed in a warm glow from the sole lamp in the room, and the cold that had previously been occupying the room had disappeared. The need for warm, thick blankets was unnecessary, Luke discovers, as he pulls them off his body. His heart was still in an emotional knot, but he forced it to unravel, as he sees a tray on the table in front of him. Soup, again. A glass of water. And when he looks up, an exhausted, emotional ridden Thalia Grace, lying on the couch in front of him. She shivers slightly in her sleep, her shoulders shaking. Under her young eyes are dark circles, lining them and making them older then they really seeem. Luke knows she has too much for the age she was, but there was nothing that could take away those memories. If he could, he would. Able to take them from her brain, takes away her scars, and take away her pain. He would do anything for her to say his name. Say his name with love and compassion like it would be. Could be.<p>

Sipping his soup softly, he watches her slowly breathe in and out, resting for the first time he's met her. Sleeping, she had that air of being able to jump into action whenever she needed to. He supposed it was worked into her, just like it was worked into him when he was in the Great War. At age 15, she had to join a gang with no name. Working her way up the ranks, he could imagine a young, shaking Thalia, pulling a gun on the boss, and her pale finger pulling the trigger. There would be screams. Horrified expressions. Speechless mouths. But no matter what, it was word that once a Boss was gone, the underboss would immediately take over. He had felt the same when he had been Underboss, and then his Boss had been caught by the fuzz. Sentenced to the death penalty. And they had both made the same choices that made them who they were. Leaders, amongst the dirt and the filth of an evolving world. Humans, he realized, did anything they could to survive. The way the human race did anything to survive, as it was their great asset, was also their greatest hubris. He had felt that instinct when he had been fighting for his life in the War.

There wasn't much he could remember after being shot alongside Jason. Half closed eyes could only show so much, as he remembers vague images of doctors, nurses, and his commanding officer. He had only really been shocked back into his body when he was skulking along the streets of New York, and ordered a beer from one of the illegal bars that his gang ran. It hadn't really set itself in stone into his system, until his friends, Percy, Nico, and others slapped him on the back, welcoming him back to their gang of liars and murderers. He was a murderer before joining the War, it wasn't a lie. But maybe even moreso, after coming back from the living hell.

Not realizing it, his hands were shaking, water spilling over the edge of the glass. It took only a few minutes to realize it was spilling over the side of the table, and he forced himself to put it down onto the table. Standing up, he forces himself to stand up, ignoring the pain that shoots through his leg. The bullet no longer lingered there, but that didn't mean pain didn't demand to be felt. Wincing, he slowly walks over, picking up one of the rags on the counter, he wipes up the water on the side of the table, letting it soak the rag. Unsure where to leave it, he places it on the table again, when he hears a cry.

Thalia's forehead was beaded with sweat, a pained expression on her face. Her arms would begin to raise, but fall flat at her side, as though someone was pushing her back, forcing them flat at her side. Her head turns left and right, a tear leaking out from under her eyelids. Legs stayed still, but they were pulled tight together, as though she was trying to shrink into herself, to disappear. _Nightmares._

Luke would know. He had them all the time. And still did.

Slowly making his way to the chair next to the couch, he slowly tugs one of the blankets that had been wrapped around him, and around her body. Covering her up to her chin, he has to slowly push her arms down at her side, and tucked the blanket in around her. Her expression relaxes, the taut muscles in her face going slack. He reaches out, his hand brushing some hair off her forehead. The murmurs that have been emitting from her mouth still continue, however. No matter how much Luke tucks the blanket around her body, trying to comfort her, it seems to get worse. The blanket begins to tighten, and the murmurs begin to get worse.

"No..." she murmurs softly, her forehead creasing, "F-Fuck off...j-just..."

"Thalia," Luke whispers softly, giving her shoulder a gentle shake, "Shhh..."

"S-Stop..." she continues to murmur, and the thrashing begins again. Her body begins to turn, and she begins to moan, as though she was in pain. Faster tears begin to run down her face, heat returning to her face, and her arms begin to strike at invisible bodies, as though trying to flee, "St-Stop!"

"Thalia!" Luke finally places his hands on her shoulders, bringing her up to a sitting position, and shaking her roughly, "Wake up!"

With much squirming and whispering, she finally comes to, her eyes flying open. A fist strikes out, and Luke is just barely able to catch it before it comes in contact with his face. Her red face drains of blood, becoming pale. Her bright, electric blue eyes are filled with fear, like something was shattering beneath its icy surface.

"Thalia..." he whispers softly, "It's okay."

"L-Luke..."

"Where's Jason?" he asks, trying to calm her down, "I didn't see him..."

"He's meeting some clients," she whispers, still looking away from him, "They're coming here tonight, and I sent him to...get s-some...medicine..."

"I could've gone with him..."

"I didn't want to wake you. And Jason will be fine."

"Thalia, there are other things out there, a bit stronger then your brother."

"I know!" she exclaims, her fear for her brother evident in her voice, "D-Don't...remind me..."

"He might be-"

"Don't!" The tears begin to return, and he is guilty for doing this. He shouldn't have brought it up, but he was being realistic. Soon, she breaks again, sobs coming from her face. She covers her face with her hands, still wanting to hide her weaker side from him.

His arms slowly snake their away around her trembling body. He is able to hold her for a moment, before she recoils from his arms, and turning her body away, staring out the window beside her. He is hurt for a moment, and stares at his hands. Has he hurt her again?

"I...Luke, you know this can't happen. We can't...we shouldn't..."

"We shouldn't what, Thalia?" Trying again, his hand slowly finds its way to her blanket covered shoulder, turning her torso to him.

"Shouldn't be like this!" She says, yanking her shoulder away from him, "We shouldn't because we're...we're fucking poison to each other, Luke."

"I know."

"And we'll just slowly kill each other if we allow ourselves to-"

She is sharply cut off, when he suddenly pulls her into his arms, burying his head in her shoulders, just wanting to be surrounded by her. He didn't let her go when she struggles, threatning to kill him. And he still wouldn't let go once she begins to cry.

"Just let go, Luke..."

"Thalia," he pulls back, acknowledging the tears that are running down her face, and the ones that are beginning to roll down his own, "I need you to know now, and forever, I will never give up on us. I won't let you go, and I don't care if you think you don't need me. You do need me. You can't hide behind that facade forever...and I don't want you, I _need_ you. I need you when I breathe, I need you when I lay in bed, and I need you more then ever now. You...You can say you don't want this, that we're slowly killing each other by being with each other...by being fucking poison to each other...but this time, I'd rather be with you for a second, a milisecond, then spend an eternity without you."

Thalia's mouth is half open with shock, her lower lip trembling in fear. How could poison want to taste so sweet? Her hand slowly raises to his cheek, her thumb running over the large, jagged scar on his face. Her lips close, as she swallows, trying to swallow her fear. Shaking severely, she raises her hand, her thumb running over the jagged scar that went over his eye and cheek. Caressing his cheek with her thumb, she simply stares into his eyes, trying to search for a hint of mischief, that this was just a joke, a lie. That he must be playing with her again, because there was no way he could learn to love her again.

"Luke, this will kill us both..." she whispers, her voice trembling as it came into the silence, existing only for those seconds. The entire world was moving faster and faster, but they were the center points of the world, staying still only for each other. The world could only move faster and faster, spinning even quicker then it was possible, but they would always be still. They were the still points in an ever moving world, staying still for each other, before the world could sweep them away, "Y-You know that...above everything...w-we can't...we'll end each other."

"And I don't care..." he replies softly, "I need you. And even if I die, I will need you. Every second I breathe, I breathe for you, and I will never...ever...stop need you. I love you."

It's without a second's hesistation, before her lips smash into his. Their hands wrap around each other's bodies, and suddenly, just for each other, the world stops. The emotions, the pent up feelings that have been buried have been brought to light, as they pull themselves into each other's arms. Their lips dance on each other's lips, creating sparks in each other's eyes, as they continue to hold each other, like they were the only ones existing in this world. The only ones that could ever matter. The world has finally stopped spinning, but they were moving for each other, spinning faster and faster until they were drawing themselves into infinity.

Their passion for each other does not cease, but they are brought down to earth as soon as their lips depart from each other. They hold each other closer then ever, as Luke pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her, wanting to protect her from the world. He knew she didn't need his protection, but he would always be there, in case she would ever need him. Laying on the couch, he lays her inbetween him and the wall of the couch, and him on the outside. He pulls her head right on his chest, letting her listen to the heartbeat that lingers in his chest. The one that only lingered for her. Had it always been beating for her, she would always wonder, but in that night, she was assured that he truly did need her. He would always need her. His heartbeat she heard assured her, comfort her, that heartbeat that could only beat from the exhilaration that she gave him. Slowly, they help each other fall asleep, each warding off their loved one's nightmares, protecting each other from the demons that lay inside of them. Her breathing matches his, and for the first time, their smiles are not from crime or deception, but from another human being.

They sleep for hours, letting their other protect them from the nightmares that plagued them every night, from the pain that always demanded to be felt. They were, a once impossible idea that both of them had, happy. They were finally relaxed, finally without worry and finally getting the love they have deserved for ages. And they knew the reason why they were allowing themselves to love again, because this time, they could stand together, and let the world come after them, but all they could ask of each other was more then whatever the world could throw at them. The love they had been denied for so long, and the love they would take until they could choke on it, suffocating them. Love gives them joy, and love would give them undeniable pain, but for now, they would let the poison consume. Till death did they part.


	11. Chapter 11

_Learn To Love Again, chapter 11_

_A/N: Hey! Love the mass of support from my reviewers! Lahlahland, percabeth1414 and Immoral Dreams for reviewing! It's crunch time for me in musical theater, so I have to update on days that are a bit closer together, which I suppose is good for you guys. And sorta awkward/BWAGHHH for me. Please enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Waking up with her in his arms is one of the best feelings in the world. Beginning to stir, he feels a smile split on his face before he's even fully concious. Usually, he would wake with a frown, but this was an odd day out of those routined frowns. It's a smile that decorates his lips as he comes to, hearing shuffling and scratches somewhere nearby. Fuzzy, like the conversationalists were in another room.<p>

"Thalia..." he murmurs, saddened by the fact he has to pull her from her sleep. She looks so peaceful. He stops, admiring her as she slept. She looks younger, fuller, even happy. Happiness was hard to come by during their slumber, Luke knew for sure, but seeing her with that soft smile on her pale face just made Luke want to pull her even closer in his arms and sleep. They could sleep forever, and he wouldn't care. But even safety came before contentment. Before even realizing it, he begins to sit up, yawning as he did. He looks out the window, to see it was still as dark as it had been before. What time was it, anyway? Looking to the clock on the counter nearby. 4:00am. Not even sunrise.

Scratching his scalp, he shakes her gently, regretting it as she did. Her eyes flash open as soon as his hand shakes her shoulder, and she sits up quickly, a small smile on her face. Running her hands through her hair, she stands, rushing over to the door. "Must be Jason," she murmurs to herself as she pauses for a moment, "I told him to meet the clients, but they're about having a shouting match out there..."

"Let them in, then." Luke answers quickly, and strides over to her side. Pausing, he considers the fact this might be the only time they'll be alone for a long time. He sweeps an arm around her shoulder and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "I slept great."

"So did I," she replies, smiling a bit, before pulling the door open. To their back, they can see Jason, his body slack and upright, staring at the clients nearby. Three women, two men. One of the boys could barely pass for twenty, at the very least. Luke recognized only two of them, and it's his own men. Percy Jackson, his underboss, and Nico Di Angelo, a soldier he vaguely knew. Accompanying them was a strong, well muscled woman with a fierce glare in her eyes; a brunette with amazing colorful eyes, and...her. Annabeth. He felt his jaw go slack at the sight of her, dirty, bloodied and bruised, but she did not have her eyes locked with him. At the moment, the silence was reigned by the looks that Jason and the brunette woman with the turquoise eyes were giving each other. Delight. Betrayal. Sadness. Relief. He recognized it all.

"How about you all step inside before we get shot?" Thalia suddenly suggests, breaking the awkward silence. All eyes turn to her, as she gives a small nod to Annabeth, the tall woman and the brunette. "Mclean, La Rue. Good to see you're alive."

"And I'm not important enough to be alive?" Annabeth asks, raising an eyebrow. Tense silence follows, before Thalia and Annabeth burst out laughing, and usher past Jason, who stands bewildered at the laughing friends. Luke, making room for the other women, pat Percy and Nico awkwardly on the back.

"Good to see you're not dead. " Percy greets him, as they all make their way into the apartment. Eight of them, in total, it seems. Thalia and Annabeth take a seat on the couch where Luke and Thalia had been sleeping, while the woman by the name of La Rue sits down on the ground, informality be damned. Mclean, the one who has been exchanging looks with Jason, takes a chair and pulls it close to the couches, while Percy and Nico take the other couch, obviously exhausted from the night's adventure. As for Luke and Jason, Jason sits in the nearby armchair, offered by Luke, as Luke himself sits on the floor, realizing the mixed company they have at the moment. Gangs usually never sit together or even get this close to each other with such important members in tow.

"So."

Thalia calls the attention of the members of the Grace gang and the Castellan to her. Putting on the facade Luke knew so well, she stands up, smiling at each and every member, her smile fading a bit at the sight of Luke and Annabeth. "As we can see, there has been major twists in events we have not been expecting. Annabeth and I have been exchanging stories, and we feel it is necessary to share what has been happening in the last few days.

"Yeah, while me and Nico are getting shot at," Percy comments in the corner, his hands tucked behind his head in a leisurely pose, feigning relaxation, "All good, mhm."

"Didn't ask for you input, Jackson." Luke snaps, glaring with him out of his good eye, before turning his attention back to Thalia. Thalia smiles a bit, as though amused by the scolding Percy receives.

"Anyway," a new voice takes hold of the attention, and Luke finds himself cringing. Annabeth. He hadn't wanted to hear that voice in a million years, "From what I know, it seems that the Castellan outfit are beginning to perform a mutiny against their leader."

"Mutiny, yeah, that's right," Percy interrupts, rolling his eyes, "More like gone insane. As soon as our Don gets some time off for the first time in fucking ever, Otto has to go nuts and say I'm a weak ass and Luke's off his rocker. Yep. _That_, my friends, is mutiny."

The touch of sarcasm that Percy adds it noticeable, but nobody interrupts as he tells his story about Annabeth arriving to their bar to deliver the message Thalia had sent her, and Otto going off his rocker, thinking he's the king of anything. Luke bites his lip as he listens to how two of Thalia's gang had died because they were protecting his men. Otto, the bastard. And every other damn member of his own brotherhood. Betrayal. Fucking rats.

"So Gardiner and Beauregard are now out of business?" Thalia asks at the end of the gripping story, gritting her teeth as she asks. She's trying not to show her emotions, but it was clear she valued every member of ther gang as though they were her family. They were, in the end. And every lost member is another part of Thalia's humanity that is lost.

"Yep. Sons of bitches, I think it was Beckendorf-don't worry, he's gone too-and Solan I think. They got away, but they probably have gotten the Five Points on about us. I have a feeling this might be war." Percy opens his mouth to add more, but before he does, the brunette woman with the braided hair shakes her head, interrupting Percy.

"No shit," the brunette woman says, shaking her head. She hasn't spoken much, but it's clear her emotions about the loss of the women are fierce, "Katie and Silena were one of the best soldiers Thalia had ever had. Our numbers are small against the Castellan gang, they outnumber us pretty well. I wouldn't be surprised if they came storming up here and-"

"Enough, Piper," Thalia interrupts to the woman named Piper, "We don't need more images of lost people. Anyway, the rule here is to how to proceed with knowing we are outnumbered, outgunned, and lack of support is evident."

"You know-" The tall, muscled woman on the side finally speaks after the lengthy conversation, "It's four in the morning, I'm exhausted, and I spent the night getting shot at by idiots. Can we just get some sleep?"

There is an agreement to sleep, as everybody at this point, is nodding off or yawning heavily. Thalia herself is even standing with a slump, to Luke's amusement. Percy's nodded off, his head resting on Nico's shoulder, who looks extremely uncomfortable. Annabeth, seeing this, offers Nico to move, and he takes it up, his cheeks red as he and Annabeth switch places, now sitting next to the half asleep Thalia. Jason himself has fallen asleep in the armchair halfway through the conversation. Piper placed her forearms on her legs, and her face in his arms, the soft snores coming from her being obvious. The woman who suggests sleep, Clarisse, Luke learns, has stolen a pillow from the couch and rests her head against it, beginning to sleep. Luke shrugs to Thalia, who smiles at the sleeping Annabeth. Her head has fallen on Percy's chest, and it seems none of them were too eager to change the arrangement. Smiling, Luke takes one of the thin blankets that had been draped on a chair and lays it over Nico, who's mouth was open wide. Offering his arm to Thalia, she silently agrees to sleep, as he walks with her to the spare bedroom on the side. Closing the door behind him, he looks at the window. Shades of blue begin to creep into the bedroom, and he is certain, for a moment, he's in a dream. That is wasn't possible for Thalia Grace to be in his arms, that it's impossible for him to be with her alone.

Proven wrong, she presses a quick kiss to his lips, as they both fall onto the bed. Curling up under the covers, Thalia wraps her arms around his back, burying her head in his chest. A warm feeling building up inside him, he pulls her close, making sure she was comfortable. Tonight, they could just sleep. Tomorrow, maybe Otto would be run over by a car. That would definitely make his tomorrow.

* * *

><p>It's only been a few hours, before Jason begins to stir, his eyebrows beginning to scrunch up in his sleep. Bombs. Fire. Blood. Too much screaming. Death. Greying flesh, and it was his. The nightmares had never truly left him. Sitting up quickly, he almost lets his arm fly loose, his would be fist connecting to whatever unfortunate soul that lays beside him. Opening his eyes fully, his heart beating loudly, he looks around the dim room, sun's rays beginning to force its way into the room.<p>

The blonde woman and the black haired man, named Percy, was curled together on the couch, saying nothing to each other. He was sure they were asleep, Annabeth's head resting against Percy's shoulder, before realizing Percy hand was gently running itself through the messy blonde curls. A soft smile lights Jason's face up, seeing happiness in such despair. That's how it had been before. When hope was high and the world was a song. When it had been her and him.

Shaking his head, he forces himself to look away, knowing what would happen if they happen to wake. Glancing around the room, he sees the younger boy, Nico or something, comically stretched out on the couch, exhausted as hell. His mouth was wide open.

The strong muscled woman, La Rue, or something close to that, is stretched out on the floor, curled around the pillow her head rests on. Brown locks cover her face, and he realizes she doesn't look as scary when she was asleep.

Then there was her.

Her head resting in her forearms, he hears the soft breaths that came from inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. He had heard it all before, when she had been in his arms. Piper Mclean was sleeping on the chair, somehow comfortable in the odd position she's in, which makes Jason smile. She has always been an odd sleeper. Resisting the urge to walk over, he simply reminisces, before she had left him. Before Piper had turned to the life his sister lived, and he couldn't ever forgive her.

_"Piper, d'you know what this could do to you?" He was screaming by this point._

_ "I don't see the fuss! Your sister offers me a position with money and you go fucking crazy?" She yells angrily, her arms performing gestures to prove her point._

_ "It kills you! It makes you paranoid and angry and I don't want that to happen to you. About what happened to my sister." _

_ "I can do whatever the fuck I want, Jason! If I want to join your sister's gang for extra money, so be it!"_

_ "This isn't how I want you to take care of me!"_

_ "Who ever said I was doing it-"_

_ "I don't want you to take care of me like this!" _

_ "Thalia does it all the-" _

_ "YOU'RE NOT THALIA!" He finally screams, and lashes out, the back of his hand slapping her. Hard. Her eyes water with tears as he grabs her shoulders in a fit of hysteria._

_ "Piper, you don't want to turn like my sister. She nearly destroyed herself to become like this, to take care of me! I don't want...everybody sacrificing their humanity for me!"_

_ "Who said it was a sacrifice?" She whispers after a long silence, her cheek still red from the mark he had left, "Who said I did it for you? Maybe I just want to get away. Maybe I'm tired of you and want to leave. Who EVER said I wanted to do this for you? Maybe I'm just SICK and TIRED of being dragged down by a fucking coward!"_

_ Silence reigns, as Jason feels tears flooding his eyes. Had she really just said what he thought she said? His hand tightens around the beer bottle he's been drinking out of, and he stands there, watching as she turns, leaving their daughter without a trace of her, and stomping out of the apartment. And he didn't even try to run after her._

_ Pathetic._

_ It was a long time before he could forgive Thalia. And even longer before he could forgive himself._

If he could take back those words he had said that night, he would. He would do everything and anything to win her back. To have the right to run his fingers through her hair and tell her he loved her more then anything. To have the hand to hold, to have her eyes, and her arms. In her arms he had felt loved, and now, he hardly wanted to live. He would never admit it to Thalia, but he still loved Piper Mclean. Their daughter was the only reason he lived, for the girl would never know her true mother. He wishes that he had that right, that right to a wife that would love him forever. But his actions had cost him many things, and it was the law of love that kept them apart.

She had never said she was joining for him. Maybe she was really tired of him.

But, oh, how Jason wished he could win his right back, to have her again, to tell her he loved her without the strange glare or suspicious eyes. He feels tears stinging at the back of his eyes, as he lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he could never love her as much as he could miss her. Burying his head in his hands, he lets the tears run, to know she was right in the room with him, being so close, and it's slowly killing him. That he couldn't hold her. That he couldn't run his fingers through her locks, but that was okay. She didn't need him, but he couldn't need her as much as he could ever, ever love her.


	12. Chapter 12

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 12_

_ A/N: Hey, everybody! I love your reviews you sent me! Lots of love to percabeth1414, Immoral Dreams and Lahlahland. I also love the followers and favorites, but you gotta review to get that shout out! Warning: There are only three chapters left in this story!_

* * *

><p>Percy stirs, his nose wrinkling at the odd odors in the air. Usually, the bar didn't smell <em>this<em> bad. The soft surface beneath his head is nothing like the hard wood of the bar that he usually passes out at every damn morning. His hand's not cradling a bottle of whiskey but...another hand? Slowly opening his eyes, he finds himself in a small, old apartment, as he tries to recall the events of last night.

Fuck. Right.

Getting away from the Castellan outfit, seeing the two members of the Grace group die for them, and comforting...Annabeth. He pulls himself out of his reverie, before realizing she's the body that lays next to him. Her head rests on his shoulder, hair messy and stained with blood. He stares at her for a moment, just watching her sleep. She looks so peaceful.

He chuckles to himself, remembering the first time they had met. Right before the Great War. School. She had been one of the smartest kids in his class, close to valedictorian. This was before his father had forced him into the business, when he could just be a kid. Or, close to a kid. He was already taking tests to get into universities. He remembers vaguely having a dream, of being...what was it? Oh, right. Moving close to the ocean, as Manhattan was so grey and ugly. Somewhere with wide open spaces, close to the ocean side. He would work close to the ocean, and have a lovely lady by his side. He had always secretly hoped it would be Annabeth.

Course, life wouldn't let that happen. Daddy tried to marry her off to some snooty, rich son, when she ran away. As informal and irrational as it was, Annabeth Chase did not listen to authority that well. In that time, Percy heard wild rumours, like that she headed off to Mexico, or that she joined the military disguised as a man. Course, Percy found out the truth from Luke, that she had just gone underground, hidden, before resurfacing as a member of the Grace outfit. When Percy tried to ask Luke how he knew, he had threatened him with a beer bottle, and Percy had known better then to continue asking why. It had always been a mystery to Percy why she decided to join the Grace outfit, and why Luke hated to talk about it.

Now, seeing her laying beside him without a word, he reaches out, moving some stranded locks off her face. Even in her sleep, she was beautiful. Hell, Percy thought she was beautiful in any state. He wonders what sort of person she would be if Daddy hadn't tried to marry her off. Would she be scientist? A professor? Maybe even a military General, if she really wanted to. So much potential gone wasted. If only life could be fair to both of them. For now, they were both at the bottom of the ranks, dog eat dog, where only the pathetic could go when there was nowhere left to go.

"Ugh..." Annabeth begins to stir, shaking her head. Percy, fumbling a bit, decides to move away, letting her fall onto the crest roll of the couch. As she continues to wake up, he looks around the apartment, and grabs a lone, empty bottle of beer. Taking a large chug of the bottle, he spits it out just as she finally wakes up.

"Fucking shit!" he exclaims, spitting it out, instead of bronze liquid, was yellow. Hearing soft laughter come from Annabeth, it begins to bloom into a loud laugh, doubling over as Percy glares at her.

"Well, glad to know you find me swallowing piss hilarious," he says, crossing his arms. As she finally calms down, he sits up, looking around the apartment. It was late afternoon at the very least. Looking around, he sees every member accounted for, except Luke and Thalia.

"Hey, where's Castellan and Grace?"

"Ten bucks says the bedroom," a voice grumbles from the corner. Percy turns his head, to see a disgruntled Jason Grace, rubbing the back of his neck. Blue eyes stare into Percy's own, as he jabs a thumb at the nearby bedroom, "I bet they snuck off when we all fell asleep last night."

A smirk places itself on Percy's face, as Jason tells him this. Luke and Thalia? Was he serious? That would never happen in a million years. Jason had called her a grade A bitch. Either this guy was hallucinating on some medical drug, or he was telling the truth. Probably the first.

"Jason, buddy," Percy begins, taking a seat next to the former soldier, "I'm sure you hallucinate a lot of stuff with all the medical stuff-Yes, I saw the bottles-and I'm sure Thalia and Luke are NOT canoodling around like-"

"Papa?"

His head snaps up, as a small voice, most likely four or five, pops into the conversation. Raising his head, he tries to locate the source, but is blown back when a tiny girl runs out of one of the other rooms, about four or five, and climbs onto Jason's lap.

"What. The-"

"Hey, honey,"Jason says excitedly, bouncing up the little girl on his knee. She giggles, as he continues to bounce her on his knee. He glares at Percy, warning him with his eyes to shut the hell up, or there will be hell.

"Papa, who're all these people?" she asks, staring at the passed out members, excluding Percy and Annabeth, who are watching with silent curiosity. Jason is silent for a moment.

"Friends."

"Who're they?" she asks, pointing to Percy and Annabeth. It clicks immediately in Annabeth's mind, a clear look is all she can say to indicate to Jason that she knows. Percy, however, is a bit more clueless. That doesn't mean he hates children, he just doesn't particularly like the annoying ones. However, from what he could see, she's more adorable then annoying.

"I, my good friend," Percy begins, kneeling in front of Jason so he was eye level with the curious young girl, "am Percy Jackson. Thief extraordinaire, friend of your father's, and-"

"Uncle?"

The response melts Percy's heart. How could anyone have pegged him as an uncle? He was a criminal. Murderer. Bloody bodies on the street because of him. Course, she never knew that...he stops for a moment, shocked by reply, before nodding, much to Annabeth's surprise. She wouldn't have pegged Jackson as a child lover. "Yeah. Uncle works, too. I'll be an uncle, if you need one."

"She doesn't need another one."

Turning his head, he sees Luke, walking out of the bedroom with an exhausted Thalia by his side. He has to cover his mouth to refrain from swearing, as Jane hops out of Jason's arms and runs over to her aunt.

"Uncle Luke! Auntie Thalia!"

"Hey, sweetie!" Thalia, dressed in the clothes she was wearing last night, picks up the excited young girl, kissing her cheek, "I see you've met Uncle Percy and Auntie Annabeth."

"Auntie, who are all the other people who are sleeping?" she asks, turning her head, pointing to Piper, Nico, and Clarisse, all still passed out in their positions. Thalia laughs, gives Luke a look, before setting her down.

"More Uncles and Aunties. If you want, you wanna wake them up?"

A mischevious grin appears on Luke's face, as he nods. Kissing Jane's forehead, he pulls Percy aside, whispers something to him, as the women and Jason watch with interest. Jane watches with wide eyes, as Percy and Luke both pull their guns out, and it's only with a split second's warning, that Annabeth covers Jane's ears, as they both fire at the wall.

The roar of the bullet shocks Jane, causing her to jump and fall out of Thalia's arms. Catching herself, the young girl ends up in front of a startled Clarisse, who hits her head against the nearby chair.

Clarisse, looking enraged, is about to jump up and swear angrily at the Boss and Underboss, who are losing it from laughter, before meeting Jane's sweet blue eyes in front of her.

"WHAT THE-" She pauses, trying to register and make sense of the little girl in front of her, before hesistating and swallowing her words, "Heck."

Jane sits on the floor, dumbfounded, and unsure what to make of the situation, before watching Nico and Piper get over the shock. When everybody finally calms down, including Luke and Percy, who are in the corner, laughing and losing it, while Annabeth and Thalia only allowed herself a chuckle.

"Ugh, what the hell was that?" Nico groans, rubbing the back of his neck, staring wistfully at the laughing men, "I mean, no offense, Percy."

"Your wake up call," Percy answers, as the goof he is. Everything is silent for a moment, as Jane stares at the adults, and the adults stare at Jane. Everybody is unsure what to say, half of them unsure who she is the daughter of anyway. But, it becomes very clear, when Jason excuses himself to the other room, and asks Piper to look after her. There is sadness, of course, in his voice, as he asks her to look after her, but Piper obliges, with tears in her eyes.

"Are you my Auntie Piper?" she asks her, and Piper shakes her head, mentally telling herself it just wasn't good to tell her now. When she shakes her head, thank goodness, Jane doesn't ask who she is exactly.

Thalia begins to throw beers around, except for Jane, who she hands a small banana and her doll. Being sucked into her own world, the little girl hums to herself, sitting on Piper's lap. Piper strokes her daughter's hair, not saying much after everybody has had their first swig of beer.

"So, anyone have any ideas what to do about the Castellan outfit?" Annabeth inquires, staring at the curious eyes that land on her as soon as she speaks.

"No fuckin-"

"Language, Jackson!"

"...No clue."

"Thank you."

"Well..." Nico begins to speak, and tenses when everybody's eyes land on him as well. He hated talking in front of large groups, but he stops for a moment, and takes a deep breath. He was comfortable with these people, and Percy was here as well. Percy, other then Bianca, had been the only person he was comfortable talking to. He would be alright. "Didn't we have plans tonight to raid the Preston outfit?"

"Yeah," Luke comments, scrunching his eyebrows together, "I remember...we made plans to do it months ago. High top security, that's why."

"The Preston outfit have been diminished since we last met them," Thalia comments, shaking her head, "I remember the last time we raided them. About a year ago. They had about fifty men killed this year."

"So they'll be there tonight?" Piper asks from her dazed state, still concentrating on braiding Jane's hair, "How can we be sure that whoever's in charge-"

"Otto."

"Yeah, Otto. How can we be sure he'll follow along the original calender?"

"Otto, even if he is a stinking skunkbag," Nico intervenes, "will not give up a good raid. He still wants to bring profit, anyway."

"So, we're sure that they'll be there, then," Thalia says, having been listening quietly the entire time, "So how can we be sure we have enough to take them down?"

"We won't try and take them down tonight."

Every eye turns to Luke, who has gotten the attention of the room. Always the charismatic type. He clears his throat, his gaze lingering on each member, and sketching over Jane for a bit, before continuing.

"We'll send a small team to just get an idea of who's there. You know, about who's alive, how many members...just surveillance. For now."

"That's a good idea," Thalia comments after a short silence, "But who'll be going?"

Annabeth and Percy both stand up, as they both volunteer at the same time. A split second glare, before nodding to their Bosses. Luke, approving the decision, nods.

"Hey, what about us?" Clarisse asks, having been quiet most of the time until now, "We don't like waiting around."

"I need some people to stay behind with Jason," Thalia announces, looking at her caporegime, "just in case, Clarisse. And no questions asked."

"Same for you, Di Angelo." Nico nods sternly, only glancing at Percy worriedly for a quick second, before turning his head back to Luke, and maintaining eye contact.

After a suggestion for breakfast, Thalia, Clarisse and Piper volunteer to make breakfast for the group, as there were many of them. Though Percy volunteers, Annabeth pulls him back, shaking her head.

"Don't need you anywhere near open flame, Jackson." She jokes as Clarisse, Thalia and Piper begin to cook together, the trio maintaining discreet conversation.

So, there they were. Annabeth, Luke, Nico, Percy, Jane and Jason, who had returned to help his daughter get dressed. Walking with her to the other bedroom, that left Annabeth, Luke, Nico and Percy in the living room.

"So, Chase," Luke begins softly, staring out the window behind her, "How've you been?"

"Been good," she replies light heartedly, a smile almost tugging at her lips when he makes a face at Percy.

"The Grace outfit suiting you?"

"Better then you ever did."

"Woah. Woah. WHAT?" Percy exclaims, sitting up from his relaxed position. "Wait, did you...what?"

"You didn't know?" Annabeth asks, crossing her legs together, smirking a bit, "I used to be in the Castellan outfit."

"What." He couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," Luke says, shaking his head, "She used to be with us, before she left us for the Grace outfit?"

"I'm very convincing!" Thalia yells over her shoulder, as she continues to whisk something, a flour stain on her cheek.

"Wait," This was making Percy's head spin, "So...you...were in the Castellan outfit."

"Yep."

"And you left."

"Um, I thought we've already explained that, Jackson."

"Why?"

"Thalia is rather convincing.

He looks at both of them in disbelief, exhausted by the new information and events of the night, before covering his eyes with his hand, taking a sip of beer, "I need another beer."

Annabeth throws one in his direction, and he somehow catches it, not even realizing it was open. As it spills all over his clothes, the room erupts in laughter, including Luke. Sure, they could potentially die tonight. Sure, they were close to outnumbered and most likely not survive through the night. But god, what a spectacular now he could live in before he was shot to death.


	13. Chapter 13

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 13_

_ A/N: Hey, once again! I'm sick...again...so here's a new chapter for all! Lots of love to the reviewers, COUNTDOWN TWO MORE CHAPTERS UNTIL THE END._

It was close to 1 in the morning when the tiny group headed out of the apartment, consisting of Luke, Thalia, Percy, and Annabeth. The rest of the group, Piper, Clarisse, Nico and Jason had been voted to be left behind, as agreed earlier. Heading down alleys and abandoned streets, nobody whispers a word. Tension fills the air, so thick you could easily slice through it if you had wanted to. Thalia and Annabeth head the front, as they were the ones who navigate the group that night. Percy and Luke are in the rear, each of them having drawn their gun just in case they were being tailed. Course, the betrayers of the Castellan group had no clue they were coming, but they weren't taking any chances.

"Down this alley, no, wait, left you idiots!" Annabeth exclaims, grabbing Luke and Percy's coat when they were about to go down the wrong alley. Rolling her eyes, she gives Thalia a look, as the boys resentfully follow the girls down the right alley this time. After about an hour of walking, they arrive to their destination. West 17th Street. The type of place you wouldn't even glance at twice, but in between the boarded up door and window, there were gleams of light. A hidden bar in its prime, men drinking away their sorrows from their days misery.

The quartet set aside their guns, as they all quietly take a look inside the bar. Still being run by the Preston outfit, of course. Eric Farroway was currently putting away about the sixth bottle of beer, Annabeth could guess, as Luke rolls his eyes at the man. He snickers to Percy.

"Pussy. I only get tipsy after seven bottles-Ow!"

"Shut up, or we'll get caught!" Thalia snaps, having punched Luke in the arm with her fist. Despite a smaller frame then Annabeth, she's definitely stronger then she let on. Luke, resentfully rubbing the forming bruise, lowers his criticisms to a murmur, as they continue to peak into the bar.

"Okay, so there's Preston," Thalia whispers to Annabeth, the named man walking across the bar, smiling wistfully at his friends drinking away. He slaps a few on the back, tired blue eyes watching them enjoy themselves, "D'you think he knows that they wouldn't stand a chance against the Castellan group?"

"Probably." Annabeth replies, fiddling with her gun a bit, becoming a bit more paranoid with each passing second. "Poor guy has been running the gang for about years, right after that damn War. From what I know, has no heirs to take over, and it seems his underboss and caporegime are dead."

"So basically, he's keeping the role to himself until either someone worthy shows up or they're all shot dead?"

"Pretty much...what are you two doing?"

Percy and Luke had gotten bored with the girls surveillance mission, and had begin to hum in unison, one Annabeth vaguely recognized. They continue to hum as the girls glare at them, and only offer sheepish smiles when the girls continue to glare.

"Unless you two want to be on Times, you might wanna shut up," Annabeth warns, her eyes turning to narrow slits. Luke and Percy nod, both of them wincing under the sharp looks the girls are giving them. It was clear to see here, that even though Percy and Luke were men in a man dominant society, they were still terrified of their girlfriends. They both murmur something about going on surveillance and hurry their seperate ways, avoiding the eyes of Annabeth and Thalia.

"Men," Thalia says, shaking her head, "Think they've got everything under control until they need a woman's help."

"Yes," Annabeth chuckles, "If it wasn't for us, they would be dead by this point."

"I'll say. Taking Castellan in was hard enough, but having to save his lowly ass is even harder."

"Hark says the maiden who falls in love with him!"

"Yeah, and I saw you cuddling with Jackson," Thalia spits, blushing at Annabeth's words, "I'm the stupid one here."

Silence follows as they glare at each other, before softly bursting into laughter, each of them having to grab onto each other to keep themselves upright. This time, however, they are joined by another voice.

"You ladies won't be laughing for long when we gun you and your trash boyfriends down."

Both of them pale, as they slowly turn in the direction of the voice. A scrawny, but menacing looking man with blonde hair, surrounded by other men. All of them wield guns, and even one Latino looking one holds a torch in hand.

"Fuck."

"Fuck, indeed," the man replies, smirking at the girls surprised expression, "Now, if you don't mind stepping aside and letting us through, we'll be glad to let you go free with only minimal injuries."

"A little girl can cause more injuries then you, Otto." a voice murmurs in the back, and the man called Otto whirls around, trying to figure out who the speaker was, and then Thalia and Annabeth find themselves being pushed to the ground by Luke and Percy, who have seem to come out of nowhere. The boys begin to fire at the group, outnumbered by about ten. Still, they continue. Guns fire into the night, as Otto, his group and Percy and Luke fire at each other, manic hatred in each other's eyes.

"You know, is it wrong I sort of missed this?" Luke yells over the gunfire, jumping behind an abandoned barrel, grinning maniacally at Percy. The residents in the bar heard the gunshots, and he hoped they had managed to escape the crossfire. Reloading his gun quickly, Percy grins, before reaching over and firing again, an agonized scream following.

"Yes!" Percy exclaims. Standing up, he continues to fire, as Otto, one of his former friends, Will Solace and Michael Yew continue to fire at them, and for a moment, Percy wishes this didn't have to be like this. He was firing at people he had previously liked, even shared a drink with on the worst of nights. He didn't want to end these people's lives. But it's like the Great War, you had to fire your gun or someone would fire at you. He has no choice. Finding himself joined by Thalia and Annabeth, who fire their own guns, soon, the street is littered with the bodies Percy had previously known. Will. Michael. Lee Fletcher. Malcolm. Every man he could've called his friend before, but now were dead.

Only outnumbered by two now, Percy and his friends continue to shoot, the unofficial rule of a shoot out is to only flee when police arrives or another group ran. In this case, however, it didn't seem to apply. Crouching behind broken crates and barrels, firing as the rain begins to fall, it all seemed very surreal to Percy.

The battle seems to go on for ages, sometimes crouching behind split crates, other times shooting blindly into the night, jumping up and down, avoiding death only by a centimeter...it was the life they would always live. About half an hour into the shootout, as it seems nobody has thought to alert the authorities, Percy has bleeding nose, a bullet having shot past his ear, but with the happiest smile on his face.

Luke, however, was full of grim determination. His face displays a straight line, not a smile nor a frown, just firing, ducking, and then firing again, rain making the visibility even worse. Thalia, having been backing Luke the entire shootout, continues to watch his back, pulling him down and up, left and right, to avoid those bullets that just seem to wedge their way in between the crates they hid behind. Once or twice, Percy even thought he saw her exchange a smile with Luke.

The night goes on, the shooting never seeming to stop. There's no beautiful silence, as each second is penetrated by the sound of a bullet leaving the gun, and either loud crashes, or a scream would follow through. It all seemed well enough to Percy, before he sees a bullet, being fired from Otto's gun, and straight to his chest. Without a thought, he stands still, his flight or fight reaction leaving him, before another body runs in front of him, taking the bullet

Annnabeth.

Percy falls to the ground with a thud, knocking his head against the cold cement for a moment, and the sound of screaming, yelling and crying follow through. It's only a matter of time before he finally processes what he saw. Annabeth. Running in front of him, taking the bullet. It wasn't in the chest, thank god, but it was close.

Slowly waking up, he finds Thalia and Luke supporting her, as she groans softly. Her stomach is stained with crimson, her face ashen and pale. Even more blood stains her blonde hair, her breathing raggedy and uneven. Luke supports her head, as Thalia slowly stuffs something into the wound, stopping the bleeding. A car even stops, Percy can barely understand what is going on, and with a nudge and a shove, he finds Annabeth being taken away by the ambulance. Tears slowly roll down his cheek, seeing her in such pain, because of him.

"-filthy little shits ran for it as soon as they saw they shot her."

"Luke, that doesn't necessarily mean-"

"Thalia!"

"Where'd she go?" Percy inquires, his voice softer then it has ever been. The couple turn from each other, each paling as they saw the manic expression growing on Percy's face. He sets down his gun, and when he receives no answer, kicks the crate hard enough to send it flying.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

"Hospital!" Thalia finally answers, pity resting in her eyes as Percy waits for his answer, "Sh-She was shot...because she took the bullet for you, Percy..."

His world collapses. Each moment in time disintegrates. These words strike him deeply, as he hears what Thalia says. She took the shot for him. Just for him. There was no other possible reason why she would've stepped in front of Percy. He falls to his knees, his hands shaking as he lets the gun go. He needs a bullet to the brain. Anything. Anything to make him forget.

"P-Percy," Luke begins slowly, his tone firm, but his hands were shaking as he tries to place it on Percy's shoulder, "W-We had no clue..."

"This is your fault."

"Wh-What?"

Percy grabs Luke by the shoulders, and slams him into the wall, screaming with an agonizing roar.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU SON OF A BITCH-"

"Percy!"

"IF YOU HADN'T FUCKED UP IN THE FIRST PLACE-"

"PERCY!"

"I'm going to kill you!" It was close enough to a vow that Percy could make, "I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU AND WATCH YOU DIE!"

"PERCY!"

And with a cold whack to the head from Thalia's gun, Percy falls to the ground, his grip going slack on Luke. Luke, the poor man, stares with disbelief at Percy, having not just believed what had happened. But in a way he did. It was always painful to watch somebody you love get hurt because of you.

None of them say a word as they slowly carry Percy back to the apartment, silent tears running down both of their faces. When met with questions by Nico, Clarisse, Piper and Jason, they ignore them, striding to the bedroom. Without a word, they close the door with heavy hearts and hold each other, praying, hoping, that Annabeth would be alright, that Percy wouldn't be as angry as he could possibly be. That they wished that for once in the first time, they had never been born.

* * *

><p>The room is silent, as a startled Percy begins to come to, thrashing and moaning in agony. Annabeth. Annabeth. That was all he could say.<p>

"Annabeth?" he calls, catching the attention of the group. Clarisse, having been making light conversation with Piper, pales at the words Percy says. Nico, however, his expression is close to deadly. As Percy lies back on the couch, still in disbelief of what had happened that night, Nico strides off outside, tears lingering at the side of his face.

Annabeth. Of course it had always been Annabeth. Nico holds his tears in as he strides down the stairs, the late night residents ignoring him as they usually did. Rushing past drunken men and their flirtatious friends, he only barely makes it outside, to the backdoor, before letting out a strangled howl into the night.

It was Annabeth. Always Annabeth. How could Nico ever hope that it would ever be him? He loved Percy Jackson. Fuck, he always would, and always will, but now, he couldn't even breathe, catching his breath. It shouldn't upset him that much. It shouldn't upset him that much that it was her name he had spoken at first when he woke up, but deep down, he knew the reason why. When you were in so much pain, so much pain that you could only say a name, you would always call the name of the person you loved the most.

And Nico had always known it would never be him.

"Damn you, Jackson..."

Kicking the wall repeatedly, he smashes his head against the concrete exterior of the building, wondering how love could be the worse monster of them all. His mother had taught him it would always be lust. Bianca had always told him it would be pride. Percy himself told Nico that the worse monster of all were human beings. But they wrong. Oh, how wrong they all were. The worse monster of all would always be love. Because when you don't receive it, you can't live without it.

Letting out a cracked sob, he begins to cry, burying his head in his knees as it rained. It had been just like this, when he found Bianca's body, ravaged and without life. It had been a night just like this night. But the pain of this night could possibly be worse. Love is so ancient and old, but now, it could only ravage you, take everything you offer, and then come back when you are empty.

"I remember how it feels, kid."

Nico doesn't turn his head up, as the familiar voice takes a seat next to him. A woman, for sure.

"I felt that way when you killed, Chris, y'know."

Nico slowly raises his head, to see Clarisse La Rue sitting next to him, sighing softly, and taking a large sip of whiskey.

"I wanted to hunt you down. Kill you. Course, Percy isn't dead, but I suppose you want to feel that way about Annabeth, huh?"

"I don't hate her," Nico admits after a long silence, and taking a huge sip of whiskey from her bottle, "I'm jealous of her...I don't want to kill her...I...I just wanted it to be me...I just wanted him to love me."

"You're special, kid," Clarisse ruffles his hair, "but you're strange too. Not a lot of people in New York swing the way you do."

"I know."

"And you know, I don't think you need help. And hell, you had the misfortune to run into Jackson. He is charming, but he has a bad temper, and a bad, bad habit."

"What's that?"

"Saving others he doesn't necessarily need to save."

"I never saw-"

"Nico, right? Your name is Nico?"

"Uh...yeah."

"Look, from what I can see, Percy is in love with Annabeth. And you love Percy. But that doesn't necessarily mean love is split all three ways. Love is like a gun, you see, you point it to who you desire, and either you save someone or you murder someone in the end. Jackson, having saved you, also let Annabeth save him. Now, there's a good chance she'll be fine, and I'm worried too..."

"Yeah?"

"But she makes her own decisions. And so does Percy. And so do you. I recommend trying to find someone else who'll take a bullet for you, even if it isn't Percy...it's hard to move on, I know, from dead loved ones, but you gotta try. Besides, you did it once, didn't you?"

Nico doesn't say a word, as she hands him the bottle she had been drinking from, and takes an even larger swig, the liquid burning the back of his throat. It felt nice, though. To sit with someone who knew love wasn't flowery and nice, that it was cold and dark, but always a saviour. They simply sit there, each of them closing their eyes, resting, as the rain from the sky splatters the cement with them, finally giving them release from their demons.


	14. Chapter 14

_Learn to Love Again, chapter 14_

_ A/N: Hey, everybody! Still sick, but I'm up and about, I just have to sit down sometimes to catch my breath. Anyway, lots of love to the reviewers again, we got more then I had expected! _

_**Immoral Dreams: Thanks! I swear, I came up with it on the spot, but thank you! It means a lot to hear that!**_

_**Lahlahland: Um...thanks?**_

_**percabeth1414: Well, I think by this point it's pretty damn obvious I'm not too nice to our characters**_

_**MetalBeats4051: Haven't seen you before, but thanks! And I swear, *puts chapter between my teeth* It's a metaphor, you see. You put the killing thing between your teeth but you never give it the power to kill you...that TFIOS meme, I swear. Anyway, thanks!**_

_**SOUND THE ALARMS, ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT AFTER THIS!**_

* * *

><p><em>Rushing into the hospital, his heart beats in chest louder and quicker then ever. Shaking off some snow that had fallen on his shoulders, he looks around, trying to find a hint about where she could be. Running to the receptionist's desk, it's only a matter of time before they finally tell him, only disclosing the information because he had pulled out his gun. A small smirk on his face follows, before disappearing, as he hurries down the hallway. The smell of medicine and blood makes his nose wrinkle, and he resists the urge to cover his nose. The halls are painted a blinding white color, and Percy grits his teeth, his eyes already red from holding back his tears.<em>

_They made him wait until about 10AM, Piper and Jason, with Jane, before they allowed him to go stomping off in search of the hospital. The shootout had occured about 3 in the morning the previous night, and it was possible they were still trying to save her. Having coldly ignored Nico's exit, he hadn't been sure what had happened, and when Clarisse returned with an exhausted Nico beside her, she refused to let him go near him._  
><em>"You're the last thing he needs, alright, Jackson?" she had told him. About to open his mouth to protest, he had quickly shut it, seeing the dazed and tired look in Nico's eyes. She was right. Now, about this time, he was most likely still sleeping from the few drinks he and Clarisse had had that night. Percy had a slight feeling he knew why Nico might've been upset, but he couldn't think about that now. He needed to think of her, of Annabeth.<em>

_Now, striding through the hallways, trying to find her, she's all he can think about. Her talk. Her walk. The way she never let a man fall without hell breaking loose. Her tactical ways, her dangerous nature. She is dangerous, but sensible, and that's why Percy needs her. He, himself, is dangerous without sensibility. He could get shot because of his recklessness. Someone needs to tame him, and she is the only one who could. To hold him back from himself. He thinks about running into her arms, finally telling her how he's felt for all these years since school, but could never tell, like Luke, because it would get you killed. In his world, love is a gun. It can either save a life or completely destroy one. In most cases, it was the latter._

_Finally finding her room, floor 2, room A2, he finds himself standing paralyzed in the entrance, seeing her lying there. Her blonde hair is pulled back from her face, revealing her pale, greying expression. The doctors are working hard, their gloves drenched in blood. Her blood. Grim determination decorates their faces as they use tools Percy never knew existed, to probe at the organs of her stomach digging, trying to save her. They would save her. They had to._  
><em>How many hours did he stand there? All time became elastic, as he watches them continue to work, being bumped occasionally by a passing gurney, and he is frozen, praying silently to a God he never knew believed in, to save her. To save her and let her wake up, let her rest and let her know she is loved. Let her know Percy Jackson is completely, utterly and miserably in love with her. It's not until one of the doctors yell something that made no utter sense to him, that snapped him out of his reverie.<em>

_"Organs ruptured. Internal bleeding. Nothing else we can do. Pull the plug, she's gone."_

_It didn't make sense. It didn't make any complete sense. The gears in his brain halted, his breathing coming in short gasps. Tears begin to form at the corner of his sides, as the surgeons cover her face, and one of them checks the time. Her face was covered completely, as some of the surgeons stand aside to let Percy through. Taking slow steps, and under the dim light, is her. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be._

_"Annabeth Chase. Born June 12th, 1901, and died February 25th, 1921 at 10 o' 5 in the morning."_

_They all pause, to look up at Percy, who has been listening, but never really processing it. She couldn't be dead. It didn't make sense. One of them brings him a chair, but he doesn't take it, as he slowly lets the tears fall down his face, and onto the sheet that covered her body. Reaching out, he pulls back the sheet, revealing her face, that beautiful face he could never forget. His hand finds itself curving along her cheek, and he wishes she would stir, that she would open her eyes and just fucking slap him, cause she couldn't be dead, she couldn't be dead. She couldn't be fucking dead._

_"Y-You..." he stammers, feeling like a complete coward for not telling her when he had the chance, "You...you were supposed to stay with me," he whispers, looking at her unmoving body. Even in death, she was beautiful. She would always be beautiful. And she was gone._

_Tears running down his dirt covered cheek, he smiles hysterically, as unnerved surgeons begin to call for security. Fuck it. He didn't care, as he caresses her pale cheek._

_"Wake up..." A moment passes. He grabs her shoulders, shaking hard. "WAKE UP!" Cradling her head in his chest, he sobs for her to wake up. "Please..."_

_Another silent moment passes, as the surgeons either run for their lives at this deranged madman hugging a dead body, or silently leave, giving Percy a small tap on the shoulder. Either they thought he was mad for loving someone, or a fool. Most of the time, it was the truth. He continues to hold her, whispering in her unhearing ear._

_"You were supposed to love me..."_

_Two tall, burly men enter the surgery room, seeing Percy cradling Annabeth's body. Grabbing him by the shoulders, a doctor coldly tells them to throw him out, as he begins to fight. Kicking, screaming, thrashing, he lets a cold scream rip itself from his throat, as they drag him through the hallways and back to the streets. He would come back for her. He would tell her how much he loved her, fuck what everybody says, he needed her...she was supposed to love him..._

He is shaken by the shoulders, suddenly pulled from his nightmare.

"She's awake."

He looks up to Jason, smiling gently at him, with Jane at his waist. Piper was nowhere to be seen, but he looks at the clock. 12 in the afternoon.

"Wh-What...?" He couldn't believe it. Had he been dreaming this entire time?

"She's fine." Jason says softly, offering his hand to Percy to stand up. Shaking ever so hard, Percy takes it, silent in disbelief. She's alive.

Following Jason through the hallways, Jane follows with him, smiling softly at Percy as they went. The hallway seemed to be coming much too short, and he is half convinced when he enters that same surgery room, she'll be dead, the surgeons shaking their head in disappointment. He stops before her room, his breath coming in short gasps. Jane, after a small nod from her father, slips her hand from her father and offers it to Percy. Percy, looking down at her with wide eyes, slowly takes it, and from her hand, gains the strength to walk into that room.

Laying in the gurney, is a lively, if somewhat tired, Annabeth Chase. She is playing cards with Thalia and Luke, bottles of beer being hidden underneath the gurney. Her stomach is covered by the hospital sheet, and it seems for now, she would be alright. Percy couldn't believe it, until she calls his name.

Laughing, he lets go of Jane's hand and runs to her side, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close, burying his head in her hair. It was her. She was okay.

"Hey, Percy." She whispers softly, just as glad to see him as he was to see her. But Percy knew he had missed her moreso. Pulling back from his embrace, he sees Thalia and Luke sneak discreet smiles, before both of them stand up, and leading Jane back to her father, who is smirking at the entrance. Luke, Thalia, Jane and Jason all disappear, leaving a recovering Annabeth, a close to tears Percy, and an empty room.

"H-Hey," he finally hiccups, taking a seat next to her gurney. The windows beside her room are open, letting in some sunlight, and the sunlight falls onto her hair, making her blonde hair glimmer like the sun. He is frozen by the sight for a moment, before covering his head with his hands.

"I...I thought you were actually dead."

She's quiet for a moment, before Percy finds her hand on his chin, raising his face to look at her. Slowly removing his hands from his face, her thumb rubs against his rough cheek, rubbing away the tears that had been lingering there.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Jackson."

He chuckles, and places his hand over the one that rests on his cheek. Her expression pales, and for a moment, all time freezes, as he slowly reaches over, brushing his hand against her lips. Those lips, that intrigues him and makes him want to melt at the same time. He loved them, because they're a part of her.

"Annabeth...you know I love you, right?"

He mentally slaps himself, as her cheeks flare up in color. Course she didn't. Fuck. Stupid move, and he immediately turns red himself, about to make a crack, to desensitize what he had said, to take it back-

"Pretty damn obvious."

He widens his eyes at her expression, a soft smile that lights up her face. She giggles, shaking her head. Pulling her hands back, she smiles at his dumbfounded expression, before beginning to explain.

"Well, it was obvious enough from when we went to school together," she begins, looking at her feet, "I mean, you followed me around like a puppy, and would never stop badgering me."

"Badgering was my specialty."

"Yeah. Anyway, I couldn't help...but like you a little more then I should...that's when my father got upset."

His smile escapes his face, as she speaks of her father. The rich, famous bastard, Frederick Chase. Tried to force her into a marriage with one of ther richest kids in school, and she had refused, before running away. Annabeth Chase, he decided, should never, ever be underestimated. He bites his lip, trying to hold back the words he would very much like to say about her promised husband.

"Anyway, that's when Luke came in. He offered me a place in his ranks, and I agreed-"

"Wait, _that's_ where you went?

"No _shit_. Anyway, after a few years, I did get tired of Luke. The men who joined were all bastards, and some of them annoyed the shit out of me. Luke was rather furious when Thalia offered me a place, and I had agreed. That's why he hated Thalia for a long time."

"Makes sense," Percy says, nodding slowly, "But why didn't you ever tell me you liked me? We only met once after high school? Right after Thalia shot Travis Stoll-"

"Yeah, and it was one of the worst nights of my life." She sighs, shaking her head, "I never wanted to see you again, and seeing you there...with Luke...I just remembered the happy, annoying Percy that would bug me and offer to carry my books to each class...it hurt. Also, to see Octavian, or as you know him, Otto, around. He badgered me pretty badly too."

"_That's_ why the stinking shits left after they shot you?" He asks, wide eyed and surprised, as she nods in confirmation.

"Yeah. He probably left and killed whoever the hell shot me," she says, shaking her head, "But I do like you a bit too, Jackson."

A smile lights his face up, as he slowly reaches over again, and brings her cheek into his hand, caressing the skin like porcelain, delicate and beautiful. She blushes, but doesn't pull away, as they come closer and closer to each other. Soon, their foreheads are pressed together, and Percy is holding her cheeks in his hands.

"C-Can...I kiss you?"

She doesn't utter a word, as she slowly lets his lip touch hers, closing her eyes as their lips meet. Tilting her head slightly, Percy wraps his arms around her neck, pulling her closer, so he could hold her close, to make sure this was all real. He, the boy who had badgered her for years in high school before she disappeared, finally had her in his arms, and she was loving him, the way he had always dreamed. Life, he decided, could be sure, and love was truly, a gun. He saved her. She saved him. They saved each other from themselves.

"Hope we're not interrupting?"

They break apart, their cheeks as red as can be, as Thalia and Luke stride into the room, slight smirks on their faces. Their hands are intertwined together. Jane and Jason follow, Jason taking the first seat he gets to, as Jane climbs excitedly onto his lap. She waves happily at Annabeth and Percy, before quickly becoming occupied with the small wooden block Jason brought with him.

"No, not at all," Percy says, leaning back in his seat, trying not to feel resentful that this was the first time he kissed Annabeth, and it was interrupted.

"Don't lie, Jackson," Luke laughs, shaking his head at his expressionless face, "You were kissing Annabeth, and you very much wanted to keep going."

"Shut up!"

"Not important, anyway," Thalia interrupts before the boys could get a good argument going, "Word is that what's left of the Castellan gang was caught last night. Most of them. One half of the Stolls, Butch Williams, Issac Schuster, Joshua Chamberlain...most of them. Some of them escaped, such as Otto, Leo, and others."

"How'd you get this information?"

Thalia and Luke exchange smirks, before whispering to each other, discussing whether to tell their friends the truth. After a quick discussion, they both turn back to Annabeth and Percy.

"Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano."

"WHAT?"

Annabeth and Percy explode into a series of questions, but Thalia waits until they shut up, before answering their question.

"She's been my double agent," she explains, lazily looking at her nails, "the entire time. She's the reason Jackson and Di Angelo only got tailed by the least experienced members, having convinced Otto that they would be easy to get rid of. Also, she's managed to influence Valdez, I think."

"And how can we believe this?" Percy questions, leaning forward in anticipation, but withdraws when Luke glares at him fiercely with his good eye. Accepting Thalia's words, he sits back, grumbling a bit, but lets it go.

"So, tonight, they're apparently planning on storming our base. Reyna fed it to them last night, saying she had been a member of my gang before joining theirs," Thalia continues, smiling at their gaping expressions, "And they think if we they can get rid of them, they'll get rid of you guys too. They know you trust me, but what they aren't planning on is an internal explosion, destroying them, the evidence of our gang, and if we're lucky, none of us."

"How're we going to manage that?" Annabeth asks, raising an eyebrow, "None of us have any explosives, and that shit is hard to come by-"

"We stole some off the train this morning," Luke replies, shaking his head, "It was from the War, but they had no clue what to do with it. We're placing it near the entrance of the hidden bar, and we have Reyna. She'll be with them when they raid the place, and everybody will be gone, and she'll leave to do a "surveillance" check, but if something goes wrong, there'll be a shoot out. One, which Miss Chase will not be included in-"

"Luke!"

"For your safety, Annabeth," he spits angrily, "Me and Thalia both decided it would be best if you two stayed here. Percy, she needs a guard, cause if shit goes down there, there might be two of their soldiers coming here to get rid of Annabeth or you. You're the only one I trust to take care of Thalia's soldiers."

"Fucking-" Percy throws his hands up in the air, frustrated at being left behind. He hated to be useless, but what he hated more was being dead. And that's what he would be if he disobeyed direct orders, "Fine."

"Good," Luke says, nodding slightly to Percy, "And you too, Annabeth. Anyway, I think it's best if we leave you guys at this point. I imagine you want to angrily rant and talk behind our backs."

"Yep."

Soon, Thalia, Luke, Jason and Jane have all departed, leaving a rather frustrated couple, pulling each other close in their arms, wanting to just let the world dissipate. Rather angry at their bosses, they wouldn't disobey their orders. Annabeth was to stay in the hospital, and Percy was to act as guard. However, Percy still wouldn't stop ranting, even after Annabeth had slapped him.

"I'm just saying, we could help if they wanted-"

"Oh, shut up and just kiss me, Percy."

And he was rather quick to do so.


	15. Chapter 15

_Learn To Love Again, chapter 15_

_A/N: Thanks for the lack of reviews *sarcasm*. Anyway, this is the final chapter of LtLA, and I want you to know how much fun I had writing this one, and I am super excited to start my next grand multi chapter fanfiction. But really, I'd like to thank everybody who followed, favorited, and even just reviewed this fanfic, because it gives me hope. It really does, that I'm becoming a better author. Before this, Devil Takes the Hindmost was a huge disappointment to be, cause PUBLIC CONFESSION: I hated the ending. And realizing it now, I almost hate writing it. It was fun until about chapter 15, and it all went to hell from there. This fanfic makes me happier, because it's much smoother, I have more material to work with and such amazing characters to __torture __ please, and just, your reviews have been so encouraging, and I will love you all! Also, LOTS OF LOVE to percabeth1414, LahLahland, Immoral Dreams and MetalBeats4051 for your reviews of 13. __BY the way I'm still a little butthurt about the lack of reviews last chapter. Sorry __ Anyway, I am pleased to announce I'll be commencing my new early 1900's based story after this one, in 1930's. The Soldier and the Singer. Inspired by an episode of Doctor Who, and the story my own idea, its main pairing is Hazel and Frank, so be prepared! Once again, lots and LOTS of love to my reviewers, and just, I love you all._

* * *

><p>Walking back from the hospital, his back aches from improper posture, and the sun gleaming too brightly in his eyes. His hand squeezes Jane's, and she looks up at her weary father, wide blue eyes watching him with the same curiosity her mother had before her. Catching her concerned look, Jason smiles down at her, running his hand through her braided hair, no words needing to be said. The fact that it had been her mother that had plaited it into those tight braids made his heart ache, as she bore a close resemblance to her mother now.<p>

"Papa, is Aunt Annabeth and Uncle Percy going to be okay?" she asks as they walk, biting her lip gently. She walks closer to her father, cowering a bit under the glare of a seedy street rat. Wrapping his arm around her, he stops for a moment, leaning against one of the corner lamps. Jane, having gotten used to her father doing this, skips around the street, approaching the dog that has been scampering behind them since they left the hospital. Closing his eyes, he sighs, taking a deep breath, trying to regain his strength. Usually, a walk from the hospital back to the apartment wouldn't waste so much energy, but he supposes it's the side effect of the pills had given him. They had cost a fortune, it would just be a lack of energy that would accompany the medical effects, which he could live with. As soon as the side effects would be over, he could imagine himself being employed, and getting money so that he and Jane could live happily. She would be able to go to a real school, and wear real clothes, and be as happy as she deserves to be. And maybe, though it's highly improbable, that Piper would come back, to take care of her daughter, maybe.

"Look out!"

A rough voice pulls Jason from his rest, to see his daughter dancing in the street with the dog, and an oncoming car blasting its way down the road. A woman screams as Jason begins to limp towards his daughter, panic striking his heart. His daughter. His only daughter. He limps, but the lack of energy catches up, and he falls, tripping on the curb. He cries her name, as she stands there paralyzed by the oncoming car, crying for her father to save her. Jason closes his eyes, hoping, praying that it would be quick, that she wouldn't have to suffer.

He doesn't hear a body fall to the ground, or the scream of a child. Instead, stunned silence follows, as he slowly builds the nerve to crack an eye open. Right in front of him, a woman has pulled his daughter from the path of the car, the dog bounding away off into the corner of the street. He slowly gets to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as Jane sobs quietly into the arms of the woman, before noticing her father on the ground. The woman's arms lets go of Jane as she escapes from the woman and into Jason's arms, and sobbing into his chest. Jason holds her close, running his hand through her hair over and over, feeling elation at the safety of his daughter, before realizing who the woman was. She watches him with wide eyes, fear having gripped her as well. She slowly walks over to the father and daughter, smiling bitterly.

"Grace."

"Mclean." His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, as Piper's eyes begin to fill with tears. Letting out a soft sob, she tries to pull away from the pair, but before she could even make it to her feet, Jason grabs the soft fabric of her coat. Her eyes stare at him with such astonishment, this one gesture screaming a million different things at the same time, but one thing was prominent. He didn't want her to go.

"Please, don't," he says softly, still holding Jane close to his chest. His eyes are beginning to brim with tears at the sight of Jane's mother having saved her life, "I don't think I could bear it…i-if you left again."

"I'm going to be back at the apartment," she replies softly, staring at the cement below them to avoid looking into those eyes, knowing she could fall for him all over again, and never want to leave. But she left because she knew what she had done to him, knowing it had broken him when she left him. She wanted to leave him now, before he got too attached, before it could hurt again. "It's not like I won't see you again."

"But Piper," Jason says, pulling both of them to their feet, holding Jane in his other arm, letting the child cry as he rubs the back of her head, the ordeal having brought both him and Jane to tears, "I don't want to live like this. It hurts already seeing you here…but to know…J-Jane needs her mother-"

"You know I'm not the mother she needs," Piper replies through gritted teeth, "You know that I would've put both of you in trouble, and leaving her with you was the right thing to do-"

"Well, if you hadn't left me," Jason begins, his voice beginning to rise in volume, forgetting about the passerbyers and the children watching them. All he knew, all he ever knew since she left, is that she was the one who left him. She was the one who left him to join a gang, to forget him, to abandon responsibility, to forget that she had ever been with him, "it wouldn't have to be like this! If you had just stayed-"

"Well, I didn't need to!" She finally yells, tears rolling themselves down her cheeks, wrapping her coat closer around her than ever, as though shielding herself from those memories that dance around the both of them, laughing, mocking them for their emotions, "I had to choose, Jason, if I wanted to be with you, or to keep you safe!"

"And what would you choose now? If you had to choose right here, right now, Piper," Jason yells, Jane still burying her face in his leg, for fear of watching the dangerous exchange between her father and the woman she didn't know was her mother, "Would you choose to keep us safe, or choose me and Jane? Tell me!"

The world continues to move around them, clueless mothers and fathers passing the shouting couple at the end of the street, the sun shielded by grey clouds, winds as harsh as a knife cutting their skin, freezing both of them and Jane, as she knows the answer deep in her heart. The answer had always been in her heart, ever since she left her child with him and gone to join Thalia. When Thalia had met her there, she had simply patted her on the back, reluctant to tell Jason. When she had told Jason, he chose not to speak to him for a week. Deep in his heart, until now, he still hadn't forgiven Thalia completely for influencing Piper, and he wouldn't ever forgive her, unless the answer she gives him right now was the answer he's been dreaming about for years.

"You." she manages to choke out through her tears, the tears finally falling over the rim of her eyes, letting herself admit the truth that has strangled her for so long. She loves Jason Grace, she always has, and ever since she left him, and always will. "It will always be you."

Almost struck with disbelief, he lets out a cry of joy, and slowly opens his arms, wanting her to run into him, just to let him hold her. The last time he had done that, all those years ago, she had turned away, and run into the darkness, abandoning him. Now, she did the exact opposite. Her feet kicking the slush and snow away, she runs into his arms, being careful to maneuver her legs so Jane wouldn't be squished by their hug, she lets him wrap his arms around her, lets him love her for the first time in so long.

Jane, watching Piper hug her father, strange thoughts arising in her mind. She never really knew her mother, but this woman did feel somewhat safe to her. She braided her hair and helped her sleep when Auntie Thalia and Jason wasn't there last night. She tucked her in too. Slowly wrapping her arms around the woman's leg, she looks up as the woman's head looks down at her, a warm smile on her face, and Jane smiles. She finally lets herself ask the question that's been in the back of her mind ever since this woman arriving in their life.

"Daddy…is this Mommy?"

And when he nods, she has no trouble believing it.

* * *

><p>Thalia squints into the darkness, as Luke kneels beside, his hand holding hers with gentle care. A newly healed and informed Travis Stoll sits in the darkness next to Nico Di Angelo, holding his gun with a grim expression on his face. Travis and Nico are stationed a few yards down from Thalia and Luke, holding their guns and keeping their eyes up for Reyna, who should be bringing the Castellan outfit there. Clarisse is moving quickly between the alley and the docks nearby, moving the barrels of gunpowder close to the entrance, and being careful with her movements. Jason, Piper, Annabeth and Percy are all being exempted from this mission, but tonight is the night. The night the feud between the Castellan outfit and the Grace group shall end for good. If this mission goes well, all proof of the Grace's existence will disappear, and they wouldn't ever be convicted of this crime. The Castellan gang is dissolving, as Luke has decided there are too many traitors. Tonight is the night their reign on New York will end, leaving the Five Points to take over New York.<p>

"Still can't believe I'm ending this life for you, Castellan," Thalia mutters to herself, having trouble believing this would be the end. All that she's worked for, all that she's accomplished will be destroyed, and for what? Luke Castellan? Of course, she knew it would always be him. It would always be because of Luke Castellan everything for her life will stop. "Everything I've worked for, and all of my members, too."

"Hey, I'm doing the same thing for you, Thalia," Luke reminds her, shoving her playfully under the night's glow, and for a moment, he allows himself to admire her beauty under the dim lights. Smoke and fog cause visibility to be a bit difficult, but it made her look even more beautiful when the fog would clear. "I love you."

"And I love you," she says softly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, allowing herself this one sign of affection. She stares into his eyes, remembering their trials, their past, their near deaths because of each other, and dismisses it. She has always believed love was a gun, but only now does she realize how many will die because of the gun that has been dubbed as love. Pointing it at Travis all those nights ago had brought him to her, and let her remember how much she really could love him, if she would allow herself to love him. And she did.

Footsteps creep into the alleyway, forcing herself to remember why they were there. Luke doesn't protest as she pulls away and looks at Clarisse, who has flattened herself against the alley wall, posing as a crack head, pulling her coat up over her head. Everybody falls silent, as Reyna walks into the alleyway, leading only three other men with Otto. Leo Valdez, Harley; a fairly young man, already smoking and drinking with the vigor of one older. And Mitchell, a meek, well groomed man, already making faces as they walk into the alley, following Reyna with a bit of a disgusted look on his face.

"Ugh, didn't know the Grace outfit's headquarters would be such a dump. Good thing we're about to take it from here, ay, Otto?"

Otto looks over his shoulder, glaring at soldier. Mitchell winces as he does, and slowly falls silent, as Otto turns back to Reyna. Reyna, a tall, olive skinned woman with narrowed brown eyes and a fierce air to her, walks with confidence and pride, and it was the idea of finally ditching the gang life and becoming a real American, like Thalia promised, that drives her to betray their trust. Finally arriving to the hidden entrance, she signals for them to follow her, knowing it would be empty. Soft jazz music plays from the inside, giving the illusion that the illegal bar would be filled with the Grace members, but they were already high tailing it out of New York except for Reyna, who had stayed behind. Thalia had briefed her members on the mission when Annabeth was in the hospital, and now it's all up to Reyna.

"You better be right about this, Ramirez," Thalia hears Otto mutter under his breath, hearing the exasperation leaking in, "Because we've lost of track of these bitches, and we're probably not about to find them again."

"It's fucking empty in here!"

"What the hell, Ramirez?" Thalia is pleased to hear Otto's irritation leaking into his voice, seeing how much it's thrown him off that they aren't there, "Where the fuck are they?"

"Probably out there," Reyna's calm, heavily accented voice leaks through Otto's rage, probably looking at him with the utmost calmness, but Thalia is sure she would slap him if she could, "I shall go check."

"They better be fuckin' out there or you're going the same way as your siblings!"

Her blood runs cold at the mention of Reyna's siblings. She knows the woman hates to talk about her arrival in America, and what had happened to her family, and herself, but it was Otto that pushed her over the edge to join the Castellan outfit. She had done it previously by choice, but after what Otto did, murdering her siblings in the night and posing as if he hadn't done it, made Thalia want to run in there and press the barrel of the gun to his head and leave it there, torturing him in a mad roulette. She cared for Reyna just as much as Annabeth and Piper, and now, being reminded of that, she plans that they would be blown to smithereens.

Seeing Reyna walk out of the inhabited bar, Reyna smirks in Thalia's direction, knowing she was there. Continuing on her way, she makes it to the edge of the alley, before Clarisse slowly gets up to follow her. Clarisse, making it safely out of the alleyway, signal Travis and Nico to move, covering them in case anybody escapes the final blast. Travis smirks at Luke as they make their way down the docks, but suddenly starts yelling, running back into the alley. Nico follows, then Clarisse, waving her arms like a maniac, and Reyna, shooting fiercely at whoever is forcing them back into the alley. Panic claws at Thalia's heart, as she stands up, holding her gun aloft. May as well blast them all to hell and end it here-

"You really want to do that, Grace?"

Hearing that familiar voice, she turns to see Otto, holding Nico by the scruff of his collar, Travis watching helplessly. Nico struggles, kicking at Otto, but Mitchell slams his fist into Nico's side, causing him to run out of breath. Thalia slowly points her gun at him, watching Otto with intense eyes. Luke, by her side, tightens his grip on her hand, breathing heavily at the sight of his soldiers being held in a hostile situation.

"Maybe," she replies, holding her gun up with vigor, "you want to let them go, and I'll let you walk off with your face still intact."

Otto laughs, as does Leo, who has lit a match in the commotion. A wild smile on his face, he slowly brings it closer to Nico, his coat becoming hot as the flame approaches. Luke, beginning to panic, tightens his grip on Thalia's hand, hoping that everything would be alright.

Reyna and Clarisse were nowhere to be seen. They were trapped in an alley with Nico about to be burned, Travis helpless, and Thalia holding her gun, pointed at Otto. Luke was sure if he had never stolen the beer cases from Thalia this would never have happened, he wouldn't find himself nearly close to death, as Mitchell and Harley points their guns at him. Someone would die any moment now.

"Where are your friends you've always been so proud of?" Otto taunts, still holding the gun to Nico's head, "Percy Jackson? Charlie Beckendorf? Does it make your blood boil knowing you killed most of them for this woman?"

Luke pales, remembering what Thalia had told him. Charlie was killed by Thalia's gun, because he had shot one of her own soldiers, Silena Beauregard. He remembers the apparent deaths at the Preston outfit, with the people he had shared drinks with falling to the ground. Being shoved into the wall by Percy because Annabeth was shot. All of this because he had betrayed his friends. All of this because he put Thalia first.

"Luke," Otto's voice slips its way through his thoughts, like a spider, "Kill Thalia. Leave these people. And together, we could rule New York City! Nobody would stand in our way! Thalia Grace, this woman, is the reason your friends are dead. She's the bane of your existence-"

Was he right?

"The reason your friends are dead or arrested-"

_Could_ he be right?

"She's the one who left _you_. Is she, this _bitch_, worth it?

Was she worth it? Luke feels his eyes beginning to brim with tears, remembering, wishing this wasn't happening. That this was just a dream, that he could just be normal. He would live in a small apartment with her and they'd be able to be together for good…she was worth it. All this time. Even when she left him, and when she had returned, Thalia Grace, this bane of his existence, the tormentor of his heart, the one who took everything he could give and had demanded more…she would always be worth it.

Raising his gun, he fires into the air, distracting Otto for a moment, before pointing his gun and shooting straight at Otto's temple. Blood suddenly appears, as the bullet passes its way through his head and out the back of his skull, dead before he even felt it. Otto goes limp, his grip on Nico no longer. Leo, shocked by what had happened, drops his match, the fire of his match disappearing into the air. Thalia, at the same time Luke shoots Otto, shoots Harley and Mitchell with such skill, they are dead against the wall without a second's hesitation. Leaving Travis to grab Leo Valdez, and with a quick snap, Leo Valdez falls dead onto the ground, Travis having snapped his neck quite quickly.

All of them sprinting their way out of the alleyway, Luke looks back for a moment at the bodies that used to be his friends. Otto, Harley, Mitchell and even Leo, all dead before they even understood what had happened. 'They never would understand', Luke thinks to himself, as he takes Thalia's hand, and looks at Clarisse and Reyna, having been securing the area just in case. They were tired, but when they see the dead bodies in the alley, they smile at their leaders. Nico and Travis follow, with Clarisse and Reyna taking the rear. Joining hands, they run off into the night, back to the place where their story had begun again, the apartment.

* * *

><p>Thalia and Luke smile at the group standing in front of them, having all gathered to watch them make their escape. They were down by train tracks of Manhattan, responsible for the transportation of goods leaving and arriving in Manhattan. Dressed in her warmest coat, Thalia reaches out to the little girl first, who has been holding her mother's hand with anticipation. She lets go of Piper's hand, and into Thalia's arms, small tears running down her face.<p>

"Y-You'll come back one d-day, r-right, Auntie Thalia?"

"Course I will, sweetie," she says softly, raising Jane's head to look at her. She wipes away the tears that are sliding down the girl's face, "I always will…take care of Daddy and Mommy for me, will you?" She looks up at the tear stained faces of her brother and his love, Piper. They both nod slowly, each of them saying nothing. When Jane nods in agreement, Thalia wraps her arms around the little girl, spinning her around and around, before giving her back to her parents. Jason holds his older sister close, allowing himself to cry just a bit.

"Hey, Piper," Thalia looks up at Jane's mother, her resentment for this woman having fallen short since their victory, "Take care of this lump head," she jabs her finger at Jason, "He might get hit with a brick, and I won't be there to make sure he doesn't get it in over his head he has to save the world."

"Can do."

Meanwhile, Luke is hugging Percy, Nico and Annabeth, with Annabeth having recovered from her injury. Squeezing Nico tightly, he wraps a gentler arm around Annabeth, hugging her tightly, before pulling back and looking at Percy.

"Two things, Jackson," he says, his voice firm and strong as though it was the old days, when he had been the Boss of the Castellan outfit and Percy, the Underboss, "One, take care of this girl. Two, you better propose marriage before some asshole does, and three-"

"Don't get shot?" Annabeth interrupts, laughing softly. Luke gives her a bemused smile, before nodding. "And that. Don't get shot, any of you. I don't want to get my ass dragged up here to kick whoever did shoot you."

"Can do, Luke," Percy says, nodding gently at his boss, "And don't get shot yourself, okay? Cause we won't be able to find you, then."

Clarisse, having been standing in the back with Reyna this entire time, is beckoned closer when Thalia waves her hand to her. Making her way to the front of the group, she straightens her back, nodding solemnly as Thalia smiles up at her.

"Take care of these idiots," she says, waving her hand to the group, "Because I won't be around to take care of you guys anymore."

"Including these guys?" Clarisse questions, pointing to Travis, Percy and Nico, who look rather offended for a moment before laughing it off with Luke.

"Yes, even these guys."

Luke nods in agreement, before hearing the train coming down the track. Holding Thalia's hand, he tugs it gently, a concerned look in his eyes telling her it's time to go. Nodding, she pulls the entire group into a hug, all of them silent for a moment under the stars. It's February 31st, 1921. The stars burn so brightly in the skies, dancing as Thalia and Luke finally pull away from the only people they could ever call their friends. Holding each other's hands, they jump onto the moving train, into one of the empty box cars, both of them rolling on top of the other. Giggling, Luke loops his arm around Thalia's waist, as they hang onto the outside of the boxcar, waving to their friends. The night feels so fresh, so real, as the train heads north. Who knows what could happen now that the gangs were dissolved, that Percy and Annabeth were now engaged? That Piper and Jason could restart their lives that Nico no longer felt alone next to Travis? Luke lets his lips rest against Thalia's forehead, knowing this woman was worth the wait that had follows for years. And now, as they escape from the city and say goodbye to their friends, they both realize the truth that has been following them for years, and what they had taught each other. In the slums and streets of New York City, it had been found with the love of each other. Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace had finally learned how to love again. And this is the story of how they did.

_**THE END.**_


End file.
